Beautiful Disaster
by madame nonchalant
Summary: When Kiba runs into an old friend from Suna, he doesn't expect anything to happen. He doesn't even think about them being friends, or possibly more. But an unexpected mission, confused feelings & a night that goes too far add up. Can they stay together?
1. Return of the Puppet Master

**One. Return of the Puppet Master**

**Kiba**

The visitors from Suna were not new to Konaha. Not at all. It was just the three of them, flanked by a few guards: Temari, Gaara—now Gaara the Kazekage—and Kankuro. It wasn't like we were happy to see them, or disappointed, either. They just…were.

Hinata bobbed up and down in front of me, excited. "Look, Kiba! They're here—all the way from Suna. And it's been so long."

I snorted and ruffled her hair. "What are you so eager about? It's not like they're anything special."

She blushed a bit. "I'm not sure, really…I guess it's just so nice to see old friends."

"Friends?" I mused. "The most I remember is that they ambushed our village and nearly killed a few kids in the process. Is that your definition of friends?"

"That was five years ago, Kiba," Shino whispered from somewhere behind me. "I guess you still need to learn to forgive and forget. And it's not like they didn't redeem themselves for it. Kankuro saved your life, in case you don't forget."

"Maybe," I said. "But still, whatever. It doesn't matter to me, one way or the other. They're just a bunch of kids."

A yelp came from somewhere near my right hand. Akamaru poked his nose against my hand and sniffed the air. He began to whine, so I knelt down to pet him.

"Akamaru hasn't forgotten," I added, glaring up at Shino. "Remember that time in the forest, when Gaara nearly killed all four of us? People don't change that quickly."

"That…that was…so far back," Hinata said as I rose to my feet. "Gaara has changed. It's a small change, but it's there. He's happier now. I can feel it."

"Whatever," I said again. "I still don't care." I sighed and rubbed my head. "I need a drink. Shino, you want to come with?"

Shino shook his head. "I've got plans." His face was almost entirely covered, so it was hard to tell just what sort of plans he was speaking of.

I sighed. "I'll see you later, then. Bye Hinata."

She nodded her head. "Bye, Kiba," she whispered in her small voice. "I hope to see you tomorrow."

I ruffled her hair again. "I hope to see you too."

I sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. Sake for me, water for Akamaru.

Akamaru sniffed the floor, turning around several times until he found the perfect spot to rest. That's the thing about dogs—they're never thoroughly satisfied unless they're comfortable. I guess that's why I understand them so well.

Even though no one knew, I had a comfort zone I didn't like to be pushed out of. It was hard to hide, but it was there. It was just that I was the only one who knew about it.

The door creaked open, and the bell above it rang drearily. Another customer. I was surprised—most people were either in their houses or greeting the new guests from Suna today. And this bar wasn't exactly a spot people visited that often, either.

"What'll it be?" the barkeep asked.

"The strongest you've got," the visitor groaned wearily. He plopped down onto a stool next to me, burying his face in his hands. "Man, do I have a headache."

He brought his face up, leaving purple smears on his fingers. Dark circles rested under his eyes, giving him an appearance similar to his brother's. Akamaru raised his head, and I felt my jaw loosen slightly. "Kankuro," I said in a stunned sort of tone.

He studied my face and frowned, clearly puzzled. "Do I know you?"

I shook my head and took another sip of sake. "You probably don't remember, but I do. I'm Inuzuka Kiba."

A grin crossed his face. "Inuzuka, you say?" His eyes darted down towards Akamaru. "Good to see you're doing well."

"I could say the say the same for you," I said. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Playing bodyguard," he said. "Or at least, I was. Temari said I could take a break—I haven't slept for days now. Gaara refuses to take me off duty. Something about an assassination attempt."

"You'd think he could take care of himself," I said, rolling my eyes. "Isn't he supposed to be so incredible powerful?"

Kankuro chuckled a bit. "I know. He's been tense lately—always thinks someone is out to get him. Who'd want to waste their time? He's not _that_ special." Kankuro put his head down on the counter and groaned. "I need sleep, dammit!"

"You're probably stronger than he is," I joked, raising my glass. I downed it in one gulp and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, signaling for another.

Kankuro snickered. "There's a good chance of that. And at least I'm somewhat compassionate. Gaara was the one who was mass murderer by age twelve, let's not forget. Even if he did redeem himself—which he did, granted that now he's a lot better to have around." He sighed. "But for Kazekage's sake, is it too much for me to want a break? It's not like neither of us can take care of ourselves."

I nodded. "I know what you mean. Hyuuga still gets on my case about his daughter. 'Be careful, she's the heir to the family. Don't let her do anything dangerous!' She's a Chunnin. Hell, what am I supposed to do, let her go pick flowers while Shino and I do the fighting?" I rubbed my head, suddenly woozy.

Kankuro tapped his fingers on the wood. "Damn. Some people are so screwed up these days."

There was a silence as I finished my second glass.

The barkeep set a new glass in front of me. I raised it in a mock toast. "To the true warrior of Suna, Kankuro the Puppet Master!" I said.

Kankuro laughed. "I'll drink to that," he said. Then he signaled the barkeep again. "One more round!"

A little drunk and a lot unsteady on my feet, I stumbled home. Hana was waiting for me at the door.

"About time you came home," she barked. "Mom's been waiting for you. She has something she needs to talk to you about."

I trudged into the main room. If my mother wanted to talk, there was a good chance I was in trouble. She was waiting on the couch, mouth set in a thin line, legs crossed.

"Kiba," she greeted me. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"What about?"

"Nothing much," she said, running her hands through Kuromaru's fur. "I just heard that the Kazekage is in town."

"So?"

"So I wanted to go visit him today, but didn't have the time. I was wondering if you'd give him this letter for me."

She held out a large scroll, wrapped with thick red cord. "It's a message for him. I would like to see that he gets it."

"I'll deliver it tomorrow," I said, snatching it from her hand.

She stopped me and stood up. "Not tomorrow. Now. What if he has urgent business and has to leave in the middle of the night? This letter is important, Kiba. _He has to receive it._"

I laughed. "If it's so important, why not have Hana deliver it? She's more responsible than I am."

"Hana has a mission tomorrow. She needs her rest. You deliver it. Now. And make sure that no one else gets a hold of it—it's for the Kazekage's eyes only. And be sure to wait for his answer, or at least ask him to send me word of it."

"Fine." I put the letter in my jacket pocket and stormed out the door, still feeling a bit woozy in the head. So much for being welcomed home.


	2. A Delivery

**Two. A Delivery**

**Kankuro**

_Knock, knock._

Someone rapped on the door. I looked up for a moment, but then ignored it and went back to work, futzing with some of Karasu's mechanics.

_Knock, knock._

"Dammit," I growled, flinging Karasu onto the floor. "Can't anyone ever leave us alone?"

"Open the door, Kankuro," Gaara called from his room. "We are guests while we stay here—we must greet everyone with grace and dignity. We represent Suna, don't forget. Do you want to give them the wrong impression?"

I didn't have anything to respond to that. Instead, I got up and opened the door like he had asked. It was better not to argue with Gaara.

"Inuzuka," I said, surprised.

He nodded. "Kankuro. I have a message for the Kazekage."

I cocked my head. "That so? Then give it here."

He shook his head. "My mother gave me strict instructions it has to go directly to him. No one else is really allowed to touch it."

"You're touching it," I pointed out.

"I'm the messenger. Of course I'm touching it—I'm supposed to deliver it."

"Then why not let me help you?" I asked. "You can deliver it to me, and I'll deliver it to Gaara."

This message had me intrigued. Who would send Gaara something so important—under such strict instructions—and merely have the messenger as a boy Chunnin, and not a Jounin?

"A message for me?" Gaara whispered from somewhere near my shoulder. I jumped; I had no idea he was there. It frightened me how he could move without making a sound.

"It's urgent," Kiba said, handing him the scroll. "I'm under strict instructions to wait for your answer."

Gaara took the scroll and moved back towards his room. "Feel free to wait," he murmured. "I'm sure Kankuro can scrounge up some tea for both of you." He turned to glare at me. His lips barely moved, but his words were clear. "Make sure our guest sees that we're not entirely without manners."

He vanished then, obviously gone to read the scroll in private. "I'd better make do on his instructions," I said, motioning for Kiba to enter. "If I don't, he'll have my head."

"And we certainly don't want that," Kiba laughed, holding the door for someone to enter behind him. It was his dog, Akamaru. Clearly they were close as ever.

I smiled to myself. Hearing his laugh like that—it made me happy. I liked hearing his laughter, and the way it would bubble out of him. It was like a geyser springing from the ground, both warm and unexpected.

I headed into the kitchen, searching for the elusive box of tea that Gaara had mentioned. Kiba was still following, muttering something unintelligible to his dog.

I held up two boxes. "What flavor? Mint or Green?"

"Mint," Kiba said.

"Good choice." I set a pot of water boiling on the stove and began to search the cupboards for cups. It was a few minutes before I found two; things were in utter disarray, and I no longer knew where to find simple items like cups and boxes of tea. It was this way every time Gaara came to visit Konaha—I could never seem to find anything in our flat, no matter how hard I looked.

Kiba lay back onto the floor, resting his head on Akamaru's stomach. His eyes were closed, lashes resting on tanned cheeks. I had never really noticed, but he wasn't all that bad-looking; I was sure the girls loved him, especially that Hyuuga kunoichi.

The teapot whistled, bringing me back to reality. Had I been admiring _Kiba_? I was going insane; Gaara and lack of sleep had driven me to it. That was my explanation.

Kiba sat up quickly. "What was that?"

"The teapot, you idiot."

"Look who you're calling the idiot, here," he said.

"Sorry," I sneered. "Must be my Suna upbringing—lack of manners and all."

Kiba snorted. "Oh yes, you Suna barbarian," he grinned. "How dare you act in such a manner in front of you guest."

I poured the water slowly, adding a teabag to each cup. I let it seep for a few minutes before setting the cups down onto the low table. I moved to take a sip, and spat it back out once it was in my mouth.

"Hot?" Kiba smirked.

"A bit. Stupid shit tea," I muttered.

He snickered. "Another toast," he laughed, holding up his cup. "To shit-tea and Suna's barbarians."

I clacked my cup against his, the glass making a small pinging noise where our cups met. "I'll drink to that, too."

Kiba sipped slowly at his tea, never taking his eyes off me. As the night continued to deepen and we waited for Gaara's answer, we laughed more and talked less, sometimes just bursting into bouts of mocking laughter for no reason at all.

It was the best night I'd had in a long time.


	3. The Morning After

**Three. The Morning After**

**Kiba**

My eyes fluttered open slowly. First the right, then the left. I was lying on my back in a strange room. My whole body ached. "Ugh," I moaned, sitting up. "Where am I?"

"The Kazekage's Konaha residence," a female voice answered.

I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look. I had still been on the floor underneath the kitchen table, I realized. Akamaru yawned from behind my head and stretched, padding around to nuzzle my cheek. He wanted food.

My stomach growled. The woman turned around. I quickly recognized her as Temari, the older sister of the Kazekage. It wasn't like I hadn't seen her before. She really hadn't changed all that much.

She placed a plate of food in front of me and stuck a pair of chopsticks into my open hand. "Eat up," she said. "Once you've finished breakfast, the Kazekage will see you and give you his answer."

The answer. The previous night came flooding back into my mind. Mom's letter—of course. That's why I was here.

Temari smiled. "Your food is getting cold, Inuzuka Kiba," she said. "Hurry and eat."

I ate, grateful. I hadn't had supper the night before, since Mom had sent me to deliver the letter so quickly. The hot food scalded my throat, but didn't mind; I was so hungry I barely noticed.

Temari set a bowl of rice down in front of Akamaru. "He's grown so much," she said. "I still remember seeing him when he was just a pup, hiding in your jacket." She knelt down and stroked his fur. "Who's a good dog?" she grinned.

I smiled. "He likes it when you do that," I said. "Akamaru's a touchy-feely type."

"I suppose you are, too?" she asked.

I nodded. "A bit. It's hard, though, getting close to people. They disappear and die so easily."

"I know what you mean." Her voice was quiet, and we were both silent for a moment.

"Damn, Temari, what's for breakfast?" Kankuro shouted, stumbling into the room. He appeared to have slept well; the dark circles under his eyes from the day before were gone.

"Not so loud," she hissed.

"Why?" he laughed. "Don't tell me Gaara's still sleeping—he just yelled at me to wake up. Damn brat."

"We have a _guest_," Temari said.

Kankuro's eyes shifted to me. "I don't think he really cares one way or another," he said, stretching. His shirt lifted up a bit on the bottom, and I felt my stomach tighten a little; he had quite a few muscles he hid underneath such bulky clothes.

Akamaru growled. It was not a menacing growl, but more so one of pleasure. Still, it was enough to make Temari shy away and fix up a plate of breakfast for Kankuro.

Kankuro took a seat across the table from me. "Sleep well?" he grinned. His hair was mussed and his face markings were gone, but the cocky grinned assured me it was still the same Kankuro. He had a mouth on him that just wouldn't quit.

I forced myself to look away from him, down towards the table. I had not intended to spend the night here, nor had I intended to stay so long this morning. Half an hour had already passed since I had woken.

And I suddenly did not want to be around Kankuro. There was something about him now that made me nervous—the friendly tension between us had changed just the slightest bit. There was something much more potent brewing—I could almost smell it.

I hated the morning after a great night. There was always that sweet melancholy, where you never wanted the fun to be over. But here it was, another morning, another after phase. It made me uncomfortable.

Gaara entered the room, and the mood changed. Kankuro and Temari gave him their full attention, turning their moods from playful to serious.

"Inuzuka Kiba," he murmured, handing me another scroll like the one I had given him the night before. "Here is the answer I promised you."

"Am I allowed to know what it says?"

Gaara paused, as though trying to keep up suspense. "My answer is no," he finally said. "Tell Inuzuka Tsume that her offer is generous, but I cannot accept it. My explanation is in the letter."

"I'll tell her," I said, rising from the table.

Gaara nodded. "With all that being said, you are welcome to stay, should you want to."

"I should be going," I said. "Tsume will want to know her answer."

Gaara kept his smile tight. "Of course she will."

Kankuro followed me out into the entrance hall, while Gaara went back to his room for Kazekage duties and Temari cleaned up the breakfast plates. She said she had things to do; apparently she had a date with Shikamaru in the early afternoon.

"So…" Kankuro began.

I smirked. "So."

"I had a bit of fun last night," he said. "You know…a lot of good laughs."

"Yeah, it was fun. Maybe we should meet up again sometime. Boy's Night Out or something like that."

Kankuro laughed. "'Or something' would be better, I think."

I brushed a hand across his shoulder, letting it linger for a little too long. He gave me a strange look. I patted him on the back, trying to rid the moment of its awkwardness. "Take care. I'll see you around."

He looked at me through narrowed eyes, a cocky smile playing against the edges of his mouth. "I'll be waiting."


	4. Uncertainty of Everything

Author's Note: Okay, okay, you're probably wondering where the "night that goes too far" and the "unexpected mission" are. Both are coming, just not for a while. The characters have to develop a realtionship first, you know? Sorry, but that's just my way--I want them to take this a bit slow. They're new to this whole thing, remember.

I warn you--this fic is going to be long. :)

**Four. Uncertainty of Everything**

**Kankuro**

I almost didn't want to see him go. Almost. It was a strange feeling, to want him so much. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see him laugh, to have him crack a smile at one of my remarks.

And then the feeling began, low, in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't a sick feeling, or a hurt feeling, or that sort of acid feeling you get when you've eaten too much. The feeling was there, and it tingled—almost glittered, though I knew I couldn't see it, so therefore it couldn't _really_ glitter—but it wouldn't go away. Every once and a while the feeling would bubble up, and I'd find myself very happy and almost halfway aroused. It made me feel partly on-edge and a bit elated at the same time; I honestly didn't know what had caused it.

Or, if I was being honest with myself, I knew exactly what had, or was, causing the feeling: Inuzuka Kiba. He made me happy, for some reason, a reason I couldn't even explain to myself. Maybe I was still just a bit delirious from lack of sleep. I would go to bed, and see what happened when I woke again.

The problem was that I found myself unable to sleep. My head hit the pillow, but I couldn't make my lids close. My whole body was tense, wanting to get up and go and do something, anything.

Gaara entered the room, closing the door behind him so only a thin sliver of light danced across the floor. "Kankuro," he said.

I lifted my head. "What is it, Gaara?"

"We have to leave for a few days. I received a message from Suna this morning. They need help on settling an issue. I expect you to be packed and read to go no later than sunset."

I groaned and rolled over. "Whatever you say, Gaara."

I was secretly pleased. Never had I wanted to leave a place so much before. This edgy feeling in the pit of my stomach—I wanted it to disappear. I didn't want to have to think about or feel it anymore. It was too much for me to handle.

"I'll be ready by sunset."

Gaara had sent me to the market with specific instructions to pick up some food for our journey back to Suna. I hadn't bothered to complain or ask for one of the other members of our party to do it; I was grateful to have a reason to occupy my mind.

I looked down at the list, then back to the market display, concentrating on each item. "Leeks," I murmured, weighing a bundle of them in my hand.

"Cook much?" a playful voice asked.

I stiffened, knowing the voice. I wanted to vanish on the spot, into a puddle of sand like Gaara. My reply was cold. "Food for our return to Suna."

Kiba paused. "You're leaving?" He said after a short silence.

"Gaara said Suna needs us back as soon as possible." I said, trying to add as much venom to my voice as possible.

I couldn't stand the syrupy sadness in his tone. It grated on me, like particles of sand grate against bare skin. How _dare_ he have the audacity to think of me. To _care_. I was so much higher a level than he was, not to mention two years older. I was sick of this puppy controlling my feelings as he had been for the past day and a half. I wanted him gone.

"We leave at sunset. And frankly, I'm _glad_ to get out of this place," I added, hoping for emphasis. I chuckled softly, as though the whole village of Konaha was nothing more than a giant joke. I wanted to put distance between Kiba and myself, so these feelings would leave. "It's so…ugh. I can't stand it."

I heard Kiba let out a low growl. "Our village is just as good as yours," he spat.

"You keep telling yourself that."

"Bastard."

"Dog-boy! Why don't you just get on your knees and bark?" I shouted, turning towards him. I expected his face to be curved into an angry snarl, but he showed no signs of ferocity. He just looked hurt. The feeling panged for him. I quieted it down, reminding myself that he was a dog, a Konaha Ninja. I wanted to hate him with all my heart.

And hate him I did.

Or, at least that's what I told myself as I walked away, never forgetting how much I loved his voice.

By sunset we were off through the Konaha gates, on our way to Suna. A crowd gathered to bid us farewell, promising that they would wait until we returned.

Kiba was not among them.

It hurt me, for one of those rare reasons I could not explain. I hated him. I hated him with every last piece of myself. And yet, I still wanted to see his face one last time.

Why was I so uncertain? Couldn't I have feelings for anyone _but_ this one boy?

That was why I needed out. I wanted—no, had to—forget. The feeling was making me sick now. I couldn't tell if the waves of emotion gave me pleasure or made me want to throw up. I felt sick—so sick, in fact, that when we stopped to make camp I collapsed on the ground beneath a tree, too tired to talk to anyone.

I curled up close, hugging Karasu's scroll close to me. I wanted something to cling to, just in case I fell apart.

I was so concentrated on keeping my thoughts and emotions intact that I didn't hear Gaara approach.

"Kankuro," he said softly.

I rolled over. "What do you want? I'm trying to sleep."

"You're not coming back to Suna with us," he said softly.

I sat up. Was he sending me back to Konaha? No, this couldn't be. I didn't want to—I wouldn't go. Oh, please, no.

"Where am I going, then?"

Gaara handed me a large scroll wrapped with pale blue cord. A gleam was in his eyes. "I have a mission for you," he whispered.


	5. Rain Over Me

**Five. Rain Over Me**

**Kiba**

Tsunade is not known for her patient nature. As the Hokage, she has no room for patience. This explained why when she summoned my team to her office that night, there was no time for silly questions.

"Squad Eight," she began. "We have a mission for you."

"What sort of mission, Hokage?" Hinata asked in her small voice.

Tsunade handed her a scroll wrapped with pale blue cord. "The Land of Waves has asked for our assistance. As you may or may not know, several years ago there was a mob boss named Gato who ruled those parts. Some of his old followers seem to be acting up lately, and the townspeople are in need of assistance and protection. So I'm sending you."

Shino smiled and pushed his sunglasses up with one finger. "It's been a while since I've been out of the city," he said. "This could be fun."

Hinata was a bit more worried. "You don't think it'll be very dangerous, do you, Hokage?"

Tsunade shook her head. "Probably not. It's only a B-Rank mission, after all. Standard villains—nothing you can't handle."

Shino took the scroll from Hinata and untied it, carefully scanning the contents.

I was lost in my own thoughts. Kankuro—I couldn't get him out of my head. The way he had been in the market earlier—so violent and angry. He had blamed Konaha for his crappy mood, but I couldn't shake the thought that I was the cause of his bad humor.

Maybe it was recalling the way his voice sounded when he yelled, or the look of his eyes and the way his mouth curved up in a sort of half-sneer, but something stirred me. My breath quickened just by a fraction, and the pit of my stomach felt very warm and heavy and nervous, like I had a thousand bubbles rising inside me.

"Kiba?" Hinata's sweet voice broke my concentration.

"What?" I asked, sounding edgier than I had intended to.

"She just wanted to know if you were alright," Shino said, sounding a bit annoyed with me.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Why wouldn't I be?"

Shino glanced quickly at me, and then went back to scanning the scroll. "Your breath has quickened, you're clutching your stomach like you've been punched, and you're blushing like crazy," he said, not bothering to look up.

"It's the mission," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I'm just…very excited. It's been forever since I got to kick me some ass, you know."

"Kiba!" Hinata squeaked. "Not in front of the Hokage!"

I turned towards Tsunade and bowed. The feeling had faded now, and I felt normal again. "Sorry, Hokage," I said, keeping my head bowed. I turned to Shino and Hinata. "Tomorrow at dawn?"

They both nodded. "Good," I said. "See you then."

I turned and walked out of the Hokage's office, not looking back. I didn't want to see them stare.

All night I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, but nothing helped. Even Akamaru's warm fur wasn't enough to help me slip off.

While I had time to think in silence, I came to the conclusion that this mission would be good for me. I could get away from my mother and Konaha and the voices in my head that kept telling me things I didn't want to think about Kankuro. I really, really, needed to get away. And this mission was that chance.

Finally I realized I was never going to fall asleep. So I sat up, shoved Akamaru's body off of my legs, and began to pack. Food, clothes, kunai and shuriken, food pills—they all went into the bag until finally it was bulging.

I went to meet Hinata and Shino, and I saw that they had both packed very little. But I had food for two—Akamaru needed something to eat, too.

Shino nodded his head. "Kiba. You ready?"

"'Course I'm ready. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seemed off last night in the Hokage's office, as I pointed out. I just wanted to make sure you weren't coming down with something."

I shrugged it off. "It's nothing. Just allergies, I think."

"Good. If we're going to pull this off, you need to be in top form."

Hinata smiled. "I'm excited, myself," she said. "I mean, we're all together again! It's so nice, don't you think? Like old times, when we were Genin."

"Speaking of old times," Shino said, pulling out the scroll Tsunade had given us, "it looks like we're not going to be the only shinobi helping out. It says here that the Land of Waves has also asked Suna for aid."

I stiffened. Shino and Hinata kept walking, but I could not make my feet move. "Suna," I whispered underneath my breath. "Dammit."

Hinata turned to look back at me. "Kiba? Are you okay?"

Shino kept walking. "It's nothing, Hinata," he said. "Just his _allergies_."

By the time we reached the Land of Waves three days later, the skies had grown very dark and cloudy. It looked like more than just a light drizzle of rain—it was a storm.

People were waiting for us as we stepped into the village. One man came forward and told us we were to stay at his house. We could leave our belongings there while we patrolled the outskirts of the village.

"The visitor from Suna," he continued, leading us towards the center of the village, "is also staying with me. He's such a nice boy—even if his attitude does get in the way of his manners sometimes."

I gulped. We were so close to the moment of truth, it was almost painful. My stomach was doing flips and twists inside my body. Who was the visitor from Suna? I _had_ to know. The not knowing was killing me almost as much as the knowledge. What if they told me straight out it was Kankuro—what then?

"What kind of shinobi is this Suna visitor?" I asked, trying to sound casual and not too curious.

"He's a strange one," the man answered. "Always so arrogant—you'd think he was the Kazekage of Suna, with that attitude of his. But still, he fights well, so it's not like we have too much to complain about."

He led us to a large house in the center of the village. "Here," he said. "This is where you shall stay." He slid open the door, ushering us into the kitchen. "Go on, don't be shy now," he smiled.

I glanced around. There were two Suna shinobi—jonin, from the looks of their costumes—sitting on the floor, cleaning off several kunai knives.

One was whispering to the other. "Can you believe him? Gaara says to stay with us at all times, but no; he just _has_ to go off on his own." He glanced up towards us, then went back to whispering. "I mean, I know he's important—and it's not like we can't take care of ourselves—but _still_. Does he have to treat us like we're scum?"

I opened my mouth—perhaps to say something to one of shinobi on the floor—when the door behind me slid open.

"Ah," the man said. "There you are. I'm sure you're hungry, so I'm having some food delivered, if that's okay with you."

"It's fine," he answered. I could tell his attention was more focused on us than food at the moment. "So, these are Konaha's finest reinforcements?" he sneered.

Without even turning around, I answered. "You better believe it, Kankuro."


	6. A Storm of Our Own

Author Note: Yep, another one. :D I like writing this--it's so much fun! Thanks to all who've read my work so far! So read on down, and let's see what happens...I have a strange feeling some shounen-ai goodness is coming up!

**Six. A Storm of Our Own**

**Kankuro**

I smiled. He recognized my voice. Not that I was happy to see him—I definitely wasn't. Of all the shinobi in Konaha, they had to send Squad Eight.

I growled low, waiting to see what he would do next. "I'd better believe it? You're the ones who look a bit unconvinced, Inuzuka."

Kiba turned towards me. His hair was standing on end, and every muscle in his body had tensed in a matter of seconds. His mutt, too, was displaying the same fierce action.

I could see my two reinforcement Jounin Gaara had given me were actually paying attention. Ten to one said they were hoping I'd die.

The Hyuuga girl whispered something to the Aubrame shinobi next to her. His answer was simple. "_Allergies_."

The girl looked surprised for a moment, glancing back and forth from Kiba to me to Kiba again. "Oh," she exclaimed.

Kiba turned to his friends. "Not _allergies_," he hissed. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Shino."

"You keep telling yourself that."

I stood there and watched them bicker. A thought was forming in the back of my mind: this was all Gaara's fault. I couldn't help but think that Gaara had talked to the Hokage—that he had known that she'd be sending _them_, and he still sent me anyway. Maybe he was punishing me for being a horrible sibling. As strange as my blaming Gaara sounded, the thought just wouldn't leave my head.

Gaara had done this to me.

I stretched my arms, yawning. "What's for dinner, Mr. Mizuki?" I asked.

Mizuki grinned. "I was hoping you'd ask," he said, going into a full-out discussion of our dinner menu. I had a feeling that what he'd really been hoping was for my fight with Kiba to blow over before it elevated into something bigger. Lucky for him, it had. This time.

Next time was a different story.

Six days later, we'd captured no enemies, solved no problems, and Kiba and I continued to fight like cats and dogs. Every night it was something different. I hated the way Kiba ate, without using his utensils; he hated how I talked in my sleep; Karasu took up too much space in our room; Akamaru never ceased to get in my way.

And so it continued, on and on.

But the fights weren't the worst part. What was worse was that the feeling kept creeping back into my stomach. It would sit there, simmering during dinner, until finally it would shoot up my spine and make me go rigid. Even during my visits to outskirts of the village it still followed me, eternally settling inside my stomach.

And, on those frequent visits to the outskirts of the village, I couldn't stop thinking about Kiba. I constantly replay our fights in my head, over and over, thinking about his face, his shape, his voice. I'd see a sight on the street and wondered what he'd think of it. I made a thousand conversations up with him in my head, in all of which we were friends. Maybe more than friends, if I cared to think that far.

Either way, this whole animosity between us was my fault. I was the one who had decided that I didn't want anything between us. So I had used my attitude to make a crevice that separated us, preventing us from getting too close to each other, even though I wanted to be so much closer than we ever had been.

But what was I afraid of? That I might actually like Kiba, perhaps past the point of friends? That I was getting attached to someone who wasn't a member of my family, or even my village? That I might like someone of my own gender _that way_?

As I thought about the last question, I realized that it didn't matter to me. All the times I'd thought of Kiba, and not once had that thought barred my mind. Being one way or the other made no difference to me. It just…was. Maybe I wasn't as afraid as I thought.

Still, I like to be in control of situations. I was not in control of this one. Kiba was pulling the strings now. Every glare, every word, every angry snarl—they all piled onto of me. I was buried alive, and there was no way out. Worst of all, I still had no idea if he even felt remotely close to the way I did. And I hate not knowing things.

And I didn't want to get attached. People get angry, they get scared, they die. People leave. Did I want to care for someone to the point where it mattered to me if they lived or died? Stayed or left?

To care for Temari and Gaara was one thing. They were my family—I almost _had_ to love them, even if they treated me like dirt.

To care for Kiba was another. He wasn't attached to me in anyway. He would be able to leave me at any time, without any warning. And he would have the choice to never come back.

And that, I realized, truly scared me most—that he would never come back. That he would _want_ to leave me.

I would be left alone.

I slipped back into the house later, not wanting to wake any of the guests. I had made my decision a few hours earlier—now it was time to put my plan into action.

The rain had begun to drizzle outside, and it was picking up speed by the second. Soon it would be an all-out storm.

I shuffled over to Kiba's spot on the floor and gently pushed his shoulder.

He groaned and rolled over, blinking wearily. "Kankuro…?"

"You can tell?" I asked. The room was nearly pitch-black—it was hard for even me to see.

"I can see the outline of your hood against the window," he said. He lay back down and was silent for a bit. Then he sat up quickly, almost as if remembering our hostility. "Why are you waking me at this hour?" he hissed.

I pulled at his arm. "Outside. Now. It's an emergency."

Kiba stood up and pulled on a t-shirt before gently shaking his dog. "Wake up, boy. We have to go now."

Akamaru whined. Maybe he knew what my real intentions were. Dogs are smart like that.

Kiba rubbed his eyes as we stumbled outside into the pouring rain. "Aggh," he mumbled. "It's fricking raining out. Have you been drinking or something, Kankuro?"

I pulled him off into a side alley between our house and the house next door and removed my hood. I shoved it into my pocket.

The rain was covering both of us, soaking us to the bone. Kiba's sleep-mussed hair was flattened completely, except for where the moisture made it stick up in a few odd places. Streaks of purple water rolled off my cheeks into my hands. My face paint was washing off.

Kiba leaned against one of the tight walls of the alley, as though he was hoping to get out of the rain. "What the hell am I standing in the rain for?" he growled. "You said this was an emergency."

"It is." We stood in silence a little bit longer. Akamaru began to whine again.

Kiba cocked his head. "Well?"

I couldn't speak—I could only move. I placed one hand on Kiba's shoulder, feeling warm skin through freezing wet fabric. My other hand curled behind his head. He didn't shy away, so I pulled him closer. Breathe passed between us. Kiba looked intrigued.

"Emergency?" he whispered. His lips were nearly toughing mine now.

"Damn," I murmured.

And that was when I kissed him.


	7. Guys and Dolls

**Seven. Guys and Dolls**

**Kiba**

I hadn't expected him to go through with it. All the hoping, believing, praying—who knew it would have worked so well?

The kiss was clumsy and slow, as though we both had lost any prior skill. This kiss was new to both of us, which meant that it felt new. Raw, like a fresh wound.

I could smell the rain, and his skin and I could taste him. It was so wonderful, so beautiful. And it felt so right.

But that was what puzzled me—that it felt _right_. That meant that I was—that I might be—no, I didn't want to think about that.

I pulled away, softly, with Kankuro's arm still wrapped around my neck. "Should we be doing this?"

"You didn't seem to mind. Why not? It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

I pulled away from him and faced the wall, leaning on it for support. My legs felt weak, and the cold rain was making my skin numb.

"I didn't say it was wrong. It's just…" I sighed, trying to think of a way to explain it. "I didn't think I liked boys…_that way_. And suddenly you're here, and you're kissing me and—it's not that I didn't like it, because I did—but I'm just not sure if I want to be…"

"Gay." He finished.

"Exactly."

"Do you have something against it?" he asked, and I wondered if I had offended him.

"No!" I cried. "Not at all. I just haven't ever thought about being it before. It's such a…big change."

Kankuro was silent. The rain hissed in the background, like the sound of a thousand snakes.

"Is it…that big of a deal?" he said finally. "Gay…straight…it's like being a Suna shinobi or a Konaha shinobi. There are small differences, sure, but the general picture is the same."

"That's one way of putting it, I guess."

"Yeah."

There seemed to be nothing more to say. I realized Kankuro and I had two options: kiss more or go back inside and sleep, perhaps pretending that this had never happened.

The sound of shattering glass cut through my thoughts. Kankuro's eyes met mine, and I knew we were thinking the same thing: Gato's followers.

I slid to the edge of the alley, peering around the edge of the wall. A few houses down the street there were two ninja attempting to get through a broken window. The pieces of glass lay scattered in the street like large drops of rain.

Kankuro's hand moved to his back, and he seemed to realize that Karasu was back at the house. So was Akamaru.

He moved to open the supply case that was strapped to his leg. He got out two kunai knives and three shuriken of each of us. "Here," he said, handing them to me. "Try not to make a sound. Chances are that if these guys are stupid enough to make that much noise, they're also stupid enough for us to sneak up upon."

"Can't we go back for reinforcements?"

"No time."

I nodded and began to slowly creep forward. "Okay, then."

We crept down on all fours, going from house to house until we were underneath the broken window. I could hear the two goons snickering inside as they pocketed the goods.

Kankuro and I looked at each other and nodded, slipping through the window so quietly that the goons didn't notice.

I crouched behind a couch, waiting for his signal. I glanced around and frowned. He was gone. I heard both the goons drop their items, and one of them swore loudly. Kankuro had gone into the kitchen—without me. It struck me that he was like that a lot.

"What are you two boys doing, messing up this house?" I heard him whisper. His voice was sharp and deadly quiet. I could tell he'd picked it up from Gaara. "Damn," he muttered. "Don't you two know how to clean up you _mess_?"

On the word mess I dove into the kitchen, just in time to see Kankuro flip the small kitchen table on top of both of them. He stood on it, brushing his hands off. He looked to me. "I guess that takes care of that." He smiled, but his jaw dropped lower into a look of horror. "Kiba!" he screamed.

"What?"

"I've caught you," someone whispered from behind me. A large shadow obstructed the light that came from the broken front window. There was a third ninja right behind me. How had I not smelled him?

I could smell him now, with his strange odor of salt water and sweat. I wrinkled my nose. I hadn't been thinking clearly before. And now I was in trouble.

He pressed a large, cold sword to my throat. "Boy," he said gruffly. His voice reminded me of sandals on gravel—low and scraping. "You'd better say your prayers."

"You know," I said, trying to sound as uncaring as I could with a blade to my throat. "A lot of people have told me that over the years. And, funnily enough, I've said my prayers like a good boy." I eyed the kitchen, looking for Kankuro. He had deserted me—again. Bastard.

No doubt he would turn this into a flat-out heroic rescue, just so I'd have to be in his debt for eternity.

"So," I continued, my voice edging higher, "you know what those prayers brought me?"

I paused. I had no idea where my speech was going. If anything, it was just to buy Kankuro enough time.

"Me," I heard from somewhere behind me. It was Kankuro, using that same creepy voice as before. And there, floating in front of him, was a child's rag doll, like one I remebering Hana carrying with her when she was little.

The ninja behind me loosened his grip on the blade. It seemed that Kankuro's tactic was working. Then he began to chuckle. "You think you can get rid of me with that little doll? You're better off going and playing house with it—I'll rip it to shreds in no time."

Kankuro's brow furrowed. "What the hell did you say?"

The ninja kept laughing. "It's a doll," he managed. "A stupid doll. What the hell are you going to—Aggh!"

His cry choked. His blade had loosened far enough away from my throat, so that I stabbed him in the leg with my kunai knife. I slipped out from underneath the water nin's arm.

Kankuro moved forward, prepared to strike. The ninja backed up, evidently taken off-guard. Kankuro dove forward, using all of his speed, and jumped the couch, using his foot to send a swift kick into the ninja's lower jaw.

He stumbled backwards from the blow and fell to the floor while Kankuro landed on his feet, still controlling the doll.

"Are you sick of playtime yet?" he asked, a cocky smile placed broadly on his face.

The ninja groaned, then lay still on the wood.

I frowned. "What are you doing with that doll, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I don't know—distraction tactic, I guess." He laughed, and the doll slowly drifted to the floor. "I didn't even have a plan, really. I just knew I needed to save you—fast. And what do you know, it worked."

He strode over to where the large ninja lay on the floor and nudged his chin with a muddy foot. "C'mon, big boy," he grinned. "You and your friends are coming with us."


	8. Heading Home

Author's Note: Yes, feeding time! It took me forever to write that long rice-shoving paragraph.

**Eight. Heading Home**

**Kankuro**

By the time we had taken the goons to the prison, it was nearly sunrise. The sky had painted itself a bright pink-orange, and the rain was falling lightly. Kiba walked next to me, looking very lost in his thoughts.

I reached a hand over to touch his. "Hey," I said softly. "You alright?"

"Just nervous."

"Nervous about what?"

"That—that thing between us, last night."

I smiled more deeply and thoroughly than I ever had before in my life. "You mean the kiss?"

He winced at my words. "Yes. That."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Shino will know," he said. "I don't want him to know, but he'll know. He has a way of finding things out. The insects tell him _everything_."

"Then we should finish up here," I whispered, pulling him into the shade between two houses.

He pulled away, staying in the warm glow of the morning sunlight. "I still…I'm not sure, Kankuro. I don't know…if this is…what I feel."

I leaned back further into the shadows and beckoned him with a finger. "Come here, and then we'll see how you feel."

He obeyed, slipping into the shadows with me. We were both muddy and covered in dirt—we blended right into the darkness. I pulled Kiba up into a kiss, trying to see how he would react. His breath shortened, and his body shook. I touched one hand to his stomach, feeling muscles though the fabric. I slipped underneath, trying to feel his skin.

He yelped and pulled back, clutching himself tightly. "Kankuro," he said. "Don't do that! Please—don't go there. I'm not ready yet."

"But that does mean you're ready for something, doesn't it?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Something."

And, although he didn't mean for me to catch it, I still heard the words he said to himself underneath his breath. "I just don't know what."

Our arrival back at the house did not go unnoticed. It seemed that Hinata had woken up sometime during the night, noticed our beds empty, and come to the conclusion we were kidnapped.

She was hysterical up until the point when she woke up Shino, who tried his best to calm her down. They were all eating breakfast when we arrived, but it seemed Shino's efforts had not been successful: Hinata was still obviously upset.

"Kiba!" she cried when we tramped into the dining room, mud-splattered and a little worse for the wear. I, at least, was wearing clothes. Kiba was still in his t-shirt and boxer shorts, not even wearing any shoes.

Kiba rubbed his head and yawned. "Hinata," he said. "Good morning."

"Oh, Kiba," she sobbed, clutching onto his rain-soaked t-shirt. "Shino and I thought you'd been kidnapped! Oh, and it was _awful_! I was sure you were somewhere dark and cold, being kicked around by some nasty shinobi…I'm so glad you're safe."

Kiba rolled his eyes. "That's one way of putting it," he mumbled.

Shino looked up from his bowl of rice. "You were the one who though they'd been kidnapped, Hinata. I just said they probably went for a walk."

I cracked an arrogant smile and began to laugh. I grabbed some chopsticks and a bowl of rice from the table. "If going for a walk," I said, unwrapping the chopsticks, "means that Kiba and I here nearly got killed, then yes, Shino. We went for a walk." I began to pick up rice and shove it into my mouth, insanely hungry from the previous night.

"You—you nearly got _killed_?" Hinata squeaked.

"Yep," I answered, passing Kiba the bowl of rice. "Eat up, Kiba. There's a good chance you're going to need all the energy you can get."

"I'm not hungry, Kankuro," he muttered, even though he was clearly in need of food. His stomach gave a loud tell-tale growl. I eyed him carefully, but he just glared, evidently not pleased his body was giving away his cover so easily.

Shino put his chopsticks down onto the table with a loud snap. "What happened?"

I shrugged, attempting to shove rice into Kiba's mouth. He kept dodging the chopsticks, like a reluctant infant. "Nothing much," I said, finally making a stab and hitting Kiba's lower lip. "Just the standard stuff. We went for a walk,"—my next stab with chopsticks hit Kiba's cheek, leaving a sticky trail of rice grains—"and next thing we knew we heard breaking glass. Two goons had broken into someone's house. We went over to check it out." My next stab hit Kiba's lips again, and they parted slightly. I managed to shove some rice into his mouth before continuing. "I took the first two goons easily, but then there was this third guy,"—I attempted to shove more rice into Kiba's mouth, but he blocked my stab with his hand—"and he put a sword to Kiba's throat and threatened to kill him. But, using some excellent diversionary tactics,"—I flipped Kiba onto the floor, placing my foot on top of his chest, attempting to feed him while he was lying down—"dammit, Kiba," I growled, rolling my eyes as he started to gag, "why do you have to make everything so difficult? _You need to eat._ But anyway, Kiba got away from the guy by stabbing him in the leg with a kunai knife and I kicked him in the head and we took the three of them to the prison, only to come back here to find out we'd supposedly been kidnapped."

I managed to finish the entire story with a straight face, much to my surprise. It really was quite an odd story, and it was unusual for me to sound so happy. I barely recognized my own voice.

Kiba shoved my foot off his torso and took the bowl of rice and chopsticks from me. "Fine," he growled. "If you're going to make me eat, I can at least feed myself."

I grinned. "There's a good puppy," I said, patting him on the head.

The rest of the table started at us in mute shock.

"Went for a walk?" one of my Jounin said.

"Nearly got killed?" Hinata exclaimed.

"_You_ have excellent diversionary tactics?" Shino snorted.

"Yes to all three," Kiba grimaced, shoving down the rice. "Even if 'diversionary tactics' is a bit much. It was only a rag doll, Kankuro."

"But it worked, didn't it?"

"I suppose."

Shino frowned. "Are you saying that you two caught the goons that were troubling the village? Does that mean we're free to head home?"

Kiba shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? We weren't ever informed how many goons existed in the first place—there could still be very many left."

The front door slid open, and Mr. Mizuki stumbled into the room. "Good morning, Saviors of Waves!" he greeted us. "I heard you caught our troublemakers during the night—congratulations. It seems our village is free from harm once again."

If Shino hadn't been wearing sunglasses, I was sure I would have seen him roll his eyes. "So the village is safe and we can go home?" He tapped his chopsticks softly on the table. "That was pointless. Hinata and I didn't even _do_ anything."

"You win some, you lose some. Some you don't even get to help with at all," I shrugged. "What can I say? It was just a matter of placement and timing, I guess. And we happen to be at the right place, at the right time. Don't get on our case about it."

"So we're going home?" Shino confirmed.

"_You're_ going home," I said. "And I'm going with you."


	9. The Greatest Known Secret

Author's Note: Yes, perspective change! It may happen from time to time, but we will get back inside Kiba and Kankuro's heads again, I promise. But as for this (somewhat short) chapter, we require a little bit of narration. So, enjoy!

**Nine. The Greatest Known Secret**

Shino Aubrame knew something was different about Kiba. The way the boy talked and moved, so fluidly—it was as though he had lost all of his hatred for the world. Or, if not the world, he had at least lost his hatred for a certain Suna shinobi.

Shino noticed them on the trip back to Konaha. The signs were subtle, but they were there. Kankuro kept nudging Kiba's hand with his own, and Kiba would laugh every time he did it. Insects buzzed now and then in Shino's ear, filling his head with rumors. There was something going on.

On the second day, when the party stopped for lunch, Kankuro and Kiba made the decision to go off exploring on their own. Shino sat with Hinata, eating in silence.

Finally, Hinata got up the courage to speak to him. She'd noticed, too, the change in Kiba, and it worried her. Kiba normally wasn't one to become attached so easily. And to Kankuro? He and Kiba had mouthed off to each other since she could remember. Something was different.

"Shino," Hinata said, not taking her eyes off the ground, "is something happening to Kiba?"

Shino sighed. He knew that Hinata would ask him this question—and he wasn't sure how to respond. Hinata had always been close to Kiba, and the idea of him in a relationship with someone of Kankuro's…magnitude…might scare her. Shino wanted to keep her as calm as possible.

"He's certainly…happier than he has been recently."

Hinata nodded, biting into her rice ball. "I know that. It's just…I can see something…more. I don't know how to describe it, Shino, and I don't want to ask him about it. I don't want to make him tell me things I don't need to know."

"Maybe you're thinking too much, Hinata."

"Maybe," she sighed. "Still, I can't help but think that Kiba and Kankuro are…together. It's like it's there, blatantly obvious. I knew it when they came back to the house." She blushed. "You can just tell how happy they are with each other. And I can't help but think how…wonderful…it must be for them."

Shino leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, letting the cool shade settle over his body like water. "I know what you mean. I almost wish they'd tell us, just so we could talk about it in the open. It's hard to ignore, but like you said…I don't want to push Kiba into telling us. Maybe we should just wait until he tells us."

"We probably should," Hinata agreed.

Shino smiled and leaned closer to the tree. "What's this?" he murmured as a passing wasp buzzed in his ear. It had something quite interesting to tell him.


	10. Caught

Author's Note: And back to normal Kiba/Kanky P.O.V.!

**Ten. Caught**

**Kiba**

"I still can't believe how many people have found us out already," I groaned. "First Shino, then Hinata, and now Ino somehow knows…."

Kankuro sat up. "Ino?" he frowned. "How in the world does she know anything? She's such a blonde!"

I laughed. "Maybe, but someone told her. Though Shino and Hinata…it was really quite careless of you, kissing me in the open like that. You should have known they'd look for us sooner or later."

"Yeah, well, I just could help myself," he grinned.

"I've figured that out. You can't just keep your hands off me, can you?"

"It takes some self-control. Not that I _don't_ have self-control. I've been using that self-control for years—it's helped me to keep my sanity around Gaara." His eyes narrowed, and a beam of sun hit his eyes, making his face paint gleam wetly. "Speaking of Gaara, we both know that's my reason for not going public with this whole thing. So I've wondered…what's yours?"

I sighed. I had known it would come to this. After three weeks since our return to Konaha, I'd discovered that being with Kankuro wasn't easy. He was quick to notice when I was agitated or upset.

I still didn't even like Hinata and Shino knowing about our relationship, even though I would quickly trust both of them with my life. They had found out purely by accident early into our phase, back when we hadn't been careful enough on the return journey from the Land of Waves. Kankuro and I had stopped to kiss against a tree, and I opened my eyes to see Shino standing behind us, with Hinata in tow.

None of us had known what to say. There were a bunch of awkward silences before any of us actually got to talking. And even when we did talk, the conversation was littered with a lot of gaps and pauses. Even now, after three weeks, I still couldn't tell either of them much—it made me blush too hard.

Kankuro rolled over and straddled me, his face just a breadth away from mine. Soft grass brushed against the soles of my feet. We were in my backyard, perhaps one of the only safe places for us in Konaha—my mother was gone off somewhere and wasn't due back until nightfall. Hana was on another mission.

"So?" Kankuro whispered, his lips gently brushing my collarbone. "Tell me."

I gulped. He was so close it made the air thick and heavy—I couldn't breathe. "Everyone," I finally said. "If anyone in this village finds out—whether it's the Hokage or Hana or my mother—anyone, we're finished. My mother will hear gossip from somewhere, and she'll destroy us. I doubt she wants me to be with someone like you. Not to mention the other ninja—I can't help but wonder…what will the boys think? Will they suddenly question and analyze every action I've done? Will they interpret everything I've ever said to them? All the girls I've dated—what will _they_ think? That I broke up with them because I like _guys_? It's too much, Kankuro. I can't—I can't hold myself together much longer."

Kankuro looked away from me, off to where Akamaru was digging up some bones in the corner of the yard. It was a large, fenced-in area, perfect for running all our animals in. I liked being here with Kankuro, just us and the trees and the wind and the fence. The fence was what I liked best about the yard—no one could see in. Our yard kept our secrets. This was one place I couldn't have my actions betrayed.

"Kiba," Kankuro said. His voice was low, almost a growl. He ran his lips across my cheeks, tracing the red tattoos with his tongue.

His mouth moved lower, tracing my bones and muscles that twisted beneath my neck with every turn of my head. My breath became heavier, and suddenly it was much too hot outside.

I pushed Kankuro away a little, just enough so I could slip my shirt over my head. He did the same, and the rustle of sun-drenched cotton filled my ears. His fingers slipped slowly over my torso, tracing every rib, every muscle, every vein.

"Mmmm," I moaned. "That feels lovely."

"Kiba."

"What?"

"Touch me, you moron."

I lowered my hand to his stomach. I could feel his whole body stiffen and shiver in anticipation.

"So?"

"_What_?"

"Are you going to touch me?" he murmured into the skin of my neck.

Damn, he was impatient. I pressed one finger to his skin. He gasped, then sighed as I began to rub my finger in little circles across his stomach. His mouth quivered on my skin.

He pulled away and licked my collar bone. I grabbed his head and pulled it up to my mouth, kissing him fully while still rubbing his skin. His hands traveled across my chest, stopping to trace the contours of my shoulders.

Akamaru barked somewhere in the distance, but I ignored it. I couldn't think about anything but this. Kankuro's eyes glittered in the afternoon sun, deep and dark and filled with a liquid lust that drove both of us.

He pressed further into the kiss, until finally both of us were laying flat on the cool grass. Kankuro's hand skimmed the waistband of my pants, where there was a throbbing and hardness I tried my best to ignore. I wasn't ready for that yet.

Akamaru barked and ran past both of us, a flash of white fur. I heard a cough from somewhere overhead. It hadn't come from Kankuro, who had now gone back to exploring my neck with his mouth. Someone else was here.

I sat up immediately, with such a force that Kankuro tumbled into my lap, gripping my shoulders to stay upright.

Hana stood in the gateway, hands on her hips. Her expression changed by the moment, from shocked to surprised to scandalized. She had found us, and now she knew.

I pulled Kankuro closer, clutching him to my body. I needed to feel his skin against mine, to know he was here. Hana's lips thinned as Kankuro put his lips to my cheek and gently grazed it. I blushed, but did not move or try to explain.

I was not ashamed.


	11. Scandal

Author's Note: Another third-person P.O.V., for certain purposes. I want to be able to show what Hana is thinking, as well. I will most likely have a few more chapters like this, but most of the will still be in first-person. We will do Kankuro next, I promise. (Sorry it's so filler-ish. And short.)

**XI. Scandal**

Hana had not expected to find her younger brother in the company of a boy. Ino or Hinata, perhaps. Maybe she had even expected, in the tiniest corner of her mind, to catch him with Sakura or Tenten one of these days. But a boy—much less a foreign Suna shinobi—that was something she had not expected at all.

Inuzuka Hana was not happy with her younger brother. To come home from a mission and find him off on a date with a Konaha kunoichi was one thing. That was something she expected to happen—it was a natural cycle of life. Boys meet girls, boys kiss girls, boys marry girls and make babies. It had been that way for the longest time now, and it wasn't about to change.

At least, she hadn't thought it was about to change—not in the Inuzuka family. She knew that once she told Tsume of this, she would be all over Kiba and that Suna shinobi like Akamaru going crazy over a stray cat.

_If _she told.

"Kiba," she said casually, leaning against the side of the house. "I didn't expect to find you here…with a _guest_."

"His name is Kankuro," Kiba said, the corner of his mouth curling to reveal his fangs.

Kiba had not wanted Hana to know about this—not yet. Her knowing was by far the worst possible thing that could happen. Tsume might be able to take information from him first-hand. It would be hard, but she would learn to deal. But if she found out how Kiba had deliberately kept such a secret from her—a secret that his teammates had known before his own _mother_ did—she would surely have Kankuro's head on a plate.

Hana kept her eyes fixed on Kiba. "Tsume doesn't know yet."

"No." Kiba realized that it was a statement, not a question. Hana knew he had been saving this secret. Answering her straight-out was the best thing to do.

The two siblings glowered at each other. Kiba's answers had some cheek to them, and Hana's questions were downright cold. Even with the heat of the day, Kankuro felt a chill blow through the yard. He wanted to break the silence, but he was afraid that Hana would tear his head off if he did.

Kankuro took a deep breath and finally spoke. "Am I allowed to say something?"

"That depends," Hana said, not taking her eyes off of Kiba. "Are you going to explain what the hell you're doing with my brother, or are you going to say something stupid?"

Kankuro winced. Inuzuka women had a way with words, that was for sure. "My explanation is simple," Kankuro said. "I am in a romantic relationship with your brother, whether you like it or not. So if you're going to take out your frustration on anybody, take it out on me." He paused and licked Kiba's cheek, just to watch the expression of disgust that grew on her face. "Though," he continued, wiping the saliva off his mouth with the back of his hand, "I don't understand why you have the right to be so angry in the first place. Isn't it only natural for your brother to want to be with someone? And does it matter who that person is, or what gender they are or what village they're from? Because, if I may point it out, Inuzuka, you have _no damn reason_ to be angry at all. If anything, you should be happy for your brother and I. We've found that we make each other happy. And what else could you wish for Kiba except happiness?"

Kankuro stopped, breathing heavily. It had cost him a lot of nerve to give that speech, and each second Hana's face grew a bit darker until finally her eyes were just two slits of black on her furious face. Still, Kankuro kept his cool. Many years of mouthing off to Gaara had taught him not to show fear.

Hana said nothing. Kankuro brought Kiba's lips up to his and kissed him fully, wanting to get a reaction from the Inuzuka sister. "Meet me at our apartment later," he whispered in Kiba's ear. "Then we'll have some _real_ fun."

Kiba nodded. Hana let out a sigh of defeat. "You're right," she said.

"I'm _what_?" Kankuro asked, a bit surprised he had won so easily.

"You're kidding, right?" Kiba smirked.

Hana shook her head. "I shouldn't be mad at you," she whispered. "If—if this is what you want, then I should…be happy. For you. If he makes you happy as much as he says he does, then I should accept him. I'll accept him for you."

"And you won't tell Tsume," Kiba said.

"I won't. This is your secret—you should tell her. But don't come crying to me when she's not happy," she added.

Kiba nodded. "I'm glad you understand."

Kankuro put his lips up to Kiba's ear again. "Tonight," he murmured. "Tonight is when you _really_ begin to understand."


	12. Keeping Quiet

**Twelve. Keeping Quiet**

**Kankuro**

I was more than happy to leave the Inuzuka household for a few hours. After the face-to-face with Hana, I needed some time to calm down. Tonight was going to be perfect—better than perfect. Tonight was going to be the night Kiba and I finally became _together_.

Not that he knew it—I hadn't really told him yet. I was still mentally preparing myself. We'd only been together a few weeks, after all—was that enough time? Did it really matter?

I loved Kiba. I had known it for a while now, but I dared not say anything. He was still a bit tentative and unsure if he really wanted this or not. But tonight would change all that. Tonight I would prove my love to him, and he would see just how much he needed me.

At least, that was what I hoped he would realize. I just prayed that he would stay by me. That was all I wanted—for him to stay by me, and promise me, and love me. I didn't want him to leave—I could barely stand a few hours away from him. Maybe I was possessed by lust or love. Whichever it was, I didn't care. I was just happy to be his, and have him as mine.

I began to set up a small space for us in the kitchen at our Konaha apartment. Tonight was a perfect night—Gaara had some official business to attend to, and Temari had a date with Shikamaru. The house would be all ours.

I smiled as I spread out the tablecloth. I usually wasn't this avid about making things perfect. Normally I was an "eh-whatever-happens-happens" sort of person. This was a different Kankuro.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My headdress was askew, cheeks flushes, eyes eager. More than just my personality was changing—you could physically see how happy I was. Temari noticed, too.

"Kankuro," she said, as I began to pour some sake into two small glasses. "What's going on? You have a hot date tonight?"

"Something like that," I grinned.

"Make sure you get your business done before Gaara comes back," she sighed. "That's my advice. Otherwise, I'm going to be scrubbing your blood off the floor. You know he doesn't like it when you hide things from him."

"Hide what, Temari?" Gaara murmured, steeping out of the shadows.

I jumped. "Gaara, I've told you not to do that!"

His basilisk glare turned on me. "Hiding _what_?" he hissed again.

"Just that…I have a…date…tonight," I squeaked.

"Date?" Gaara smiled, though his eyes were cold. "Who is the lucky lady?"

"No one you'd know," I said, shrugging it off. I downed a shot of sake to clam my nerves. My hands were trembling, but why? Was it was because I was anticipating seeing Kiba? Or maybe—maybe it was because I was thinking about all the things my hands could do to Kiba.

I shook my head. "Don't you have some business to take care of Gaara?"

He nodded. "I was just leaving when I heard some talk in the kitchen. But I guess I should go now. I'll be late." With that, Gaara vanished inside a cloud of sand, leaving particles behind in the air. I heard Temari coughing a bit behind me. The sand had evidently gotten to her, too.

There was a knock at the door. "That'll be Shikamaru," Temari said, grabbing her handbag. "I'll be out late tonight, Kankuro. You have fun with your date, alright?" She headed for the entryway, calling, "And don't make Gaara angry!" the door shut, and she was gone.

I waited. The clock ticked and ticked, the minutes passing slower than the sand in the hourglass of eternity. I down another shot of sake. Thoughts of Kiba raced through my head. I wanted him now. Right now. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about the sound of his voice.

"Kankuro."

So clear, so rough and full of that classic Inuzuka attitude.

"Kankuro."

It sent chills down my spine.

_I will take those sweet words of his and form my mouth around his lips as he said them and kiss him and kiss him and then my hands will slid lower and I will feel him and he would feel me feeling him and we both will sigh and kiss more and then we'll fall back on the bed and—_

"Kankuro, open the fucking door!"

My head jolted upwards. Kiba was at the door, and I hadn't even realized it. I'd been daydreaming, a habit I'd seen Temari exude all too often.

"It's open," I called. "I'm in the kitchen."

I heard the knob give beneath Kiba's hand.

_That hand, oh, I want to hold that hand, to kiss it, to feel it on my—_

"Sake?" he asked, stepping into the bright kitchen lights.

"Right here," I nodded, holding up the glass.

He heaved, then sat down and took the glass from the table. His throat ripped as he downed all the drink in one gulp and pour himself some more.

_Throat, so dark and brown and smooth, I want my lips on that throat, to kiss it and wet it and—_

"So why'd you invite me here?" he asked.

"Temari's gone on a date," I explained. "And Gaara has some business to take care of—he won't be back for hours."

"So we have the whole place to ourselves," he grinned. It was a cocky, assured smiled, but I could sense a bit of nervousness behind it. And why not? I was nervous, too.

His eyes gleamed beneath the white kitchen lights. They were so dark, and filled with an expression I could not identify. Love, but something else, something far more urgent. I was sure he could see the urgency in my eyes. Tonight, finally, we would—

_Such pretty dark eyes, look at them, so shiny and full of such love and how can I ever—_

"Kankuro?"

"Hmm?"

"So…_is_ there a reason you invited me over?" Kiba drummed his fingers on the table. It seemed he was getting bored.

"Sure there is," I whispered, reaching across the table to grab his hand. "I want to show you my room."


	13. The Night That Went Too Far

Author's note: Longest chapter title in the history of the world. Ever. This has—le gasp!—_intimate relations_ in it. You can skip if you like, but it shouldn't be too graphic.

**Thirteen. The Night That Went Too Far**

**Kiba**

At first, I was a bit wary. His bedroom. _Bedroom._ As far as I was concerned, that was a place I had yet to be and had no desire to go.

Kankuro took my hand in both of his and brought it up to his lips. He kissed my fingertips, and his eyes suddenly melted into something soft and dark and liquid that looked like lust but really wasn't lust at all. What I was seeing—what I could smell, even—was love. I was almost sure of it.

And it scared the hell out of me.

Love? Really, after such a short time, could he love me so much? Had anyone ever loved me that much before? I wasn't sure. Granted, Tsume and Hana loved me, but that was a different sort of love. That was pure, innocent family love. Family love didn't involve such complications as this love did.

This love was different. Darker, more secretive, and just a bit frightening. Family love was unconditional—this didn't have that same guarantee.

Kankuro rose from the table, stepping out into the dark hallway. "Are you coming, Kiba?" he murmured softly.

I sat in the bright kitchen for a moment, thinking. Did I want to step into that darkness, with no one to guide me but Kankuro? It wasn't just the darkness of the hallway that scared me, but the darkness of this love. Granted, I had been told all about the birds and bees and boys and girls and what they did behind closed doors.

But I had never done any of that, not once. And now, I was scared—so scared. I wasn't sure if I should follow him and whisper it in his ear or curl up beneath the kitchen table and refuse to come out.

"_Kiiiiiba_."

I shook my head and got up, following Kankuro's voice. I would tell him. If he could not accept my fear, then we had no reason being together at all. Lovers should be able to share such things.

"Kankuro," I called softly into the darkness. "Where are you?"

"Right here."

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, tugging at the collar of my shirt. I could smell the sake on his breath. I assured myself that he'd had only a few glasses, and he could hold his liquor. Kankuro was perfectly lucid.

He brought his hands underneath the leather of my jacket, and then even further underneath the mesh shirt I was wearing. He tugged them both over my head, and the landed somewhere on the floor.

Guided by the kitchen light, Kankuro led me down the hallway, past Gaara's study to a room on the very end on the hall. He slid open the door.

It was a small room, with a bed on the floor in the center, with a small table placed next to it. Several large tea mugs cluttered the table's surface; I guessed Kankuro was not one for cleaning. A large window that led to a balcony was the only source of light in the otherwise pitch black room; there were no lamps, no overhead lights. The darkness swallowed all. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, but the tiniest strip of moonlight still managed to slip through, making a sliver streak in the otherwise black room.

Kankuro stooped down and pulled something from under the table. It was a single candle, the wax nearly melted all the way down. Kankuro pulled a match from a box near the bed and scraped it across the table, being careful not to extinguish the flame. The candle flared, then faded to a soft flame.

Kankuro let it rest on the table. He removed his own shirt, tossing it over into an empty corner of the room. He pressed himself close to me, so I could feel skin on skin. I gulped. Scared as I was, a throbbing began in my belly, slowly making its way down. Kankuro began to kiss my neck, my cheeks, my eyes, nose, lips. I could feel myself getting hard.

I whimpered and pulled away, trying to hide myself from him. My hardness was incredibly obvious, but he didn't seem to care. He pulled me back, spinning my body so I face him once again.

"There's no use hiding it," he mumbled in my ear. His fingers were skimming the waistband of my pants. I gasped as they opened my button, and I spilled out. Kankuro shifted the fabric so it was around my knees. "Kiba, Kiba." His voice had taken on that dark, Gaara-like tone again, just the same he'd used with the shinobi back in the Land of Waves. "Don't shy away from me. Let me help," his voice grew softer, more pleading. I had to strain my ears to hear it. "I _love_ you."

I froze up. So he _did_ love me. Then I hadn't imagined it, after all. But what did this mean? Did it mean that because he loved me, I had to love him? Did I have to say it, too? Was this the moment where we confessed ourselves, so everyone could see how much we loved one another?

"Kankuro—" I began. "I have to tell you, I—" He took my mouth in his, giving me no time to finish. But it was something I needed to tell him. He needed to know how scared I was.

Kankuro knelt down, bringing me with him. Then he gently placed a hand on my shoulder, easing me back onto the sheets. "Relax. You're too tense, mutt."

"Who said you could call me that?" I growled. Did he just think that he could say anything he wanted, that just because he loved me it didn't _matter_?

"Relax," he whispered. Then he pulled down my shorts, and placed his hand around me. I gasped and yelped. The horror came back.

Maybe I did love him, maybe I didn't. Either way, this—this wasn't something I was ready for. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I didn't want him touching me there. It was mine, my body. How dare he just take it, like it was his?

He began to move his fingers up and down, and I shook and my breath became heavy. It felt so wonderful, but yet I felt guilty.

_We shouldn't be doing this. We shouldn't be doing this. _

My eyes prickled with tears, and I turned my head away. I couldn't look him in the eyes anymore. I didn't want to see him so happy at something that frightened me so much.

_Shouldn't be, shouldn't be, oh, oh god yes, yes—no. No, can't mustn't—Oh!_

I yelped, struggling to keep my waist on the sheets. I released into Kankuro's hand, and I saw the satisfied smile on his face. Why? Why was he so happy? Couldn't he see, couldn't he hear? I whimpered now, like a lost dog that scratched at his master's fee, begging for forgiveness. My fear—the scent of it was so strong, so sour, it nearly overwhelmed me. Couldn't he smell it at all?

Kankuro lay down on the sheets next to me, wiping his hand on the bedspread. "I've—I've wanted that for…so long…."

I rolled over onto my side, curling up into a tight ball. His words made no sense. Why did he want to give me pleasure? Why had that been his goal—to please me, not himself. It confused me. Didn't people normally seek pleasure for themselves?

I whimpered, then lay still. I felt guilty—so guilty. Why? Hadn't he loved me? Hadn't I told him so many times that I didn't want to go too far? So why? Why _now_?

I sobbed softly, but Kankuro didn't seem to hear me. He just traced the curve of my spine, up down, up, down. I shivered and curled tighter. He stopped his hand, then finally rolled over and put his head down on the pillow. He said nothing.

I sobbed louder, afraid to fall asleep. Being asleep would make me put my guard down, and that frightened me even more. That he might try to love me while I didn't know, while I had no say in it.

I slid over to the other side of the bed as far as I could, still clutching the blanket. I couldn't go home now, much as I wanted. I was too late, and I was too tired. I pulled the blanket over me, wrapping myself into a ball as tight as I could.

I didn't want him to touch me again.


	14. Broken

Author's Note: So, hello everyone! Like many others have said, review, review, review, okay? And yes. Warning: Kiba is very, very angry. And when he's angry, he tends to swear.

But yes—Gaara does not know about how one makes babies yet. Don't spoil it for him, 'kay?

**Fourteen. Broken**

**Kankuro**

I woke up the next morning, feeling quite tired and a bit confused. My first instinct was to reach over and feel for Kiba. My fingers couldn't find him, so I lifted my head, opening my groggy, paint-smeared eyes.

Kiba was on the other side of the room, at least a good ten feet away. He had taken the sheet from me, and he was curled up in a tiny ball, like a budding flower.

I crept over to him, slinking low on my knees. I was still wearing boxer shorts, but I knew he was wearing nothing at all. His clothes were still on my floor. "Kiiiiba," I teased. "Where are you, you little mutt?"

He groaned and rolled over, looking at me with one glaring eye. Then he curled up into a ball again, back facing me.

"Kiba, is that any way to treat me, hiding from me like that?" I reached out a hand and grabbed his elbow, trying to roll him over onto his back.

He lashed out, and I could see his eyes were wide and bloodshot, like Gaara's. "DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" he screamed, lashing out with a fist.

I fell backwards, caught by surprise. His fist collided with my nose, sending blood flowing from both nostrils.

"Kiba," I said, stunned, trying to stem the bloodflow with my hand. Why was he acting this way? Last night had been…wonderful. Everything had gone right, and I had succeeded in pleasing him. But why? "You little bitch," I snarled, suddenly angry. After all I had done—I had even pleaded to that damn sister of his, for Gaara's sake! "What do you think you're doing? Ungrateful little ingrate..."

Kiba tackled me with a force I hadn't ever felt before. His rage paralleled Gaara's, perhaps surpassed it. He dove, fingers reaching out and curling around my neck. I gagged, unable to breathe.

"Let go of him."

Temari stood in the doorway. I hadn't even heard it slide open. Kiba's eyes narrowed. "Have you come to destroy me, too?"

"Too?" I spat in his face as his hands loosened from my neck. "Since when have I destroyed you, you little—"

"Enough of the language, Kankuro," Temari said, shaking her head. "If Gaara hears any of this, he'll come to investigate. And we know how he'd deal with this situation, don't we?"

"He won't have to deal with it," Kiba growled. He stood up, gathering his pants and shorts from the corner of the room. I was amazed how calm he could remain in front of Temari, naked like he was. "I'm leaving. And I won't be coming back."

I laced some charka strings around Kiba's ankles, and tripped him dragging him back across the floor on his stomach. I turned him so he was facing me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You should know." His eyes narrowed, glaring. I had to look away, it was so intense.

What the hell was I supposed to know? Granted, I may have been the shinobi in control of the relationship, but I still had no idea what Kiba was talking about. The taste of stale sake was present in my mouth as I opened it to speak. "What does that mean?"

Kiba shook his head, pushing past Temari. I swore I saw a bit of tear glinting in his eye, but he brushed it away. "Now who's the mutt, bitch?" he muttered. I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off with words that bit like a sharpened blade. "Kindly kiss off and _die_."

He looked away and disappeared. I could hear the rustling of cloth as he picked up his few shirts I had torn off in the hallway. Then the door slammed with a cold finality. He was gone.

Temari glanced down at me. "Oh, Kankuro," she whispered. "What did you do this time?"

I shook my head. "I honestly don't know." Then I sighed, heading for the kitchen. "You're not surprised?"

"About what?"

"My houseguest. Or, rather, my one-night stand, by the looks of how that went."

Temari shrugged. "I've learned that it's better to ignore details and treat people normally. I mean, it's not like we've ever been normal. We've had to deal with Gaara from little on. And when we first came to Konaha—remember how people stared? People always care more about their own feelings than the feelings of others. That's one of our problems. We've cared so much about surviving another day with Gaara that you and I have lost all sense of how to interpret the feelings of seemingly normal people. We care about surviving, about appeasing people by doing what we think they want." She smirked. "What did you do to that boy last night, anyway?"

"Do you want to know that much?"

She sipped at the mug of tea she was holding, tracing the rim of the glass with her fingers. "Not really. I'd actually care to spare myself the metal images. But I'm just thinking that, maybe if you tell me everything you remember, we can piece together what you did wrong."

"That's more kindness than I deserve," I said sadly. "He's right—I am a bastard."

"Well, Father is dead, now that you mention it," she laughed. "But I really don't think it's anything kind of me to do. You deserve to be happy, Kankuro. We all do. Even Gaara. And I've spent so much time protecting him, trying to help him, trying to save him—I almost think I lost out on being a big sister to you, too."

"That still doesn't tell me what I did wrong."

Temari bit her lip. "Tell me about it. Anything you can remember."

"Well, right after Gaara and you left, the doorbell rang, and it was him and I—"

"Go on," Temari goaded.

I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I turned towards the shadows, where I knew a certain dark-eyed shinobi lurked. "Gaara," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "How—since—why—how long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." He closed his eyes, leaning into the light just enough of I could see the tips of his hair. "Your date didn't go very well?"

"No."

Gaara sighed. "Heart wounds hurt the most, Kankuro." He shook his head, baring his teeth and making a growling noise. H grabbed a mug of tea from the stove and drained it. He shook his head, as though trying to clear his thoughts. His hand gripped his chest, wrinkling the cloth of his robes. "That's better. I almost lost it there." He sat down next to me, and I could tell that from his closeness he was actually trying to sympathize with me. "Who is this houseguest of yours, Kankuro? Do you need me to pull some strings for you?"

"I can do the string pulling myself, thanks," I said, laughing weakly. "Although, love isn't something you can pull strings in, anyway. It takes time."

"You love him?"

Shit. I'd said far too much. Gaara had listened long enough to know it was a _him_, and now he knew that _him_, whoever he was, was someone I was in love with. "That doesn't matter. After what happened last night, I don't think he wants me anymore." I put my head on the table dejectedly, while Gaara awkwardly patted my back.

"What did you do last night, anyway? Did you try to make babies?"

I could feel my face heat. "Gaara, men can't make babies together! Where'd you pick up that dumb idea?"

Gaara crossed his arms, and his eyes narrowed. "Maybe it's because I'm eighteen, and you still refuse to tell me just how one goes about making babies. I should have the right to continuing my bloodline, shouldn't I?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Not that it matters. There's nothing left for us here in Konaha, anyway."

"What do you mean, Gaara?" Temari asked, finishing off her tea, which was most likely cold by now.

"My business here is done," Gaara whispered. "We're leaving at noon. And we're not coming back for a long, long time." He made a facial gesture halfway between a smile and a smirk. "Be glad, Kankuro," he said, his voice low.

I couldn't tell if he was trying to be cruel or make me feel happier. No matter what his intentions, hearing his voice like that--I felt like I had swallowed a pint of acid.

"Whoever it is you love, you won't be seeing them again for a _very_ long time."

I swallowed, feeling a lump rising in my throat. I didn't know why, but Gaara's words made me want to vomit.


	15. Swallowing Truth

Author's Note: Oh, my darling reviewers, this chapter is for you! As for the rest of you people who read but don't review—why not? Do I suck that much, or are you just lazy? I'd like it if you typed off a five second note about my story, pleasethanks.

But my wonderful, loyal reviewers—more KankKi smut for you soon, I promise, 'kay? Until then…I will type this stuff, 'cause it needs to be said. (It's easier for me to type Kiba, for some reason. Maybe it's because he's girlier?) (Naw, just kidding.)

(Oh, and Ino's always on top. It suits her, for some reason.)

**Fifteen. Swallowing Truth**

**Kiba**

"Ino," I panted, running my hands along her stomach. "Ino, please."

She undid my pants, leaning me back onto the bed. "Hold still, big dog. Mommy wants to play."

She took me in her hands, and I found myself replaying a similar scene over in my head. Except Ino was not leaning over me, and I was not on a bed, but rather a thin cotton mattress on the floor. I could see his facial markings, even in the dim light of the candle.

My heart began to race again. I could feel fear rising in my throat. It wasn't fear of him—he'd left seven months ago, and we'd yet to hear from Suna. It seemed they were doing well, from what Uzimaki and his team said. They'd visited Suna not too long ago. I guess he was doing well. He'd been busy, they said, on some mission for Gaara. They hadn't gotten a chance to see him, so they couldn't really say how he was for sure.

My eyes popped wide. I was reaching peak, and a scream was rising in my throat. I didn't—couldn't—no, no, no, not—"_Kankuroooooo_!" I screamed, feeling myself release.

The scream shook the rafters, sending dust motes spiraling though the shaft of sunlight that came from the single open window. Then there was silence, and all I could hear was my heavy breaths, in and out, moving in time with the chirping of the birds outside.

I was panting, and I rolled over onto my side. I could see the outline of Ino's body through the thin cotton sheets as I turned my head. A breeze blew through the open window, and I could hear people mumbling to themselves outside on the street. Ino's apartment faced the marketplace, and I was sure more than one innocent shopper had heard my scream. Akamaru whined below the sill, and I could hear his nose snuffling, searching for the scent of his master.

Lying there, covered in sweat and other substances I didn't want to identify, I stared at the window, eyeing the thin strip of blue sky that shown through the open crack. I like blue sky. It never ended, and it was so open, like freedom. That was what blue sky meant to me—freedom. The freedom of not being held within the cage of Ino's apartment, but being able to go, to run until my lungs exploded.

Ino pounced on me, turning me over so I lay on my back in the center of the bed. She pushed the sheets away, so we were both naked. I marveled at her skin. It was so pale, but still so cold and smooth, like marble. It wasn't like touching a girl—it was like touching a perfect statue. Half the time I was afraid to be rough with her the way she was with me—I was afraid I'd break her.

Ino made an unpleasant noise from somewhere above me. Her face came in, close and pale and angry. "What did you just say?" she hissed.

I gulped. And then I lied. "I called your name of course, Ino. You know you hold my heart."

It was lies, all of it. I spun them faster than a spider spins silk , and I swallowed the truth like Uzimaki swallowed bowls of ramen at the Ichiraku Ramen Shop. Down the throat, quick and easy. I didn't even have time to blink any more as I spit lies back up.

"I love you too, Kiba," she smiled. I sighed. Crisis averted, all too easily. It would be so much easier for her to just accept the truth.

Every time I spun another lie, she misjudged her own actions, not mine. I wished that this could all go away—I wanted her to know. In some small, dark part of my heart, I wanted her to see me for who I really was.

I was in love with Kankuro.

And nothing, not even her care, could change that.

This wasn't to say I wasn't fond of her—I was. But it was more a friendly, gentle fondness, like the fondness I felt for Hinata. Platonic love, if anything. But not _love _love. Not romantic love.

And, funnily, enough, she seemed to be suspicious of it. She didn't ask, or bother to linger and pinpoint the cause of my loneliness. It was obvious: she knew. And yet, like all silly girls, she hoped that she could change it, that she could make me happy again. But you can't fix that which isn't broken.

It took me a moment to realize that Ino and I had been kissing again. I often found myself in moments like that: so disjointed, just pretending. It was like Kankuro had turned me into a puppet, just going through the motions, saying its assigned lines, lost without its puppeteer.

And he wasn't coming back anytime soon.

"Kiba," Ino said.

I turned my head to look at her, placing my arms underneath my head on the pillow. "What is it?"

Her voice shook, and I saw her falter. I could tell she was trying to fix me again. She would ask if I was hurt or lonely, or if she didn't make me happy. And I would lie again. Poor wooden puppet, nothing but staged lines to speak.

"What was it like…being with…him?" She choked on the last word, as though she couldn't get it out fast enough.

I sat up, staring at her face as though the words were hanging in the air like smoke. "Why do you ask?"

"Because…I'm not…like him. He and I are so different, so I keep thinking how lucky I am, to be chosen by you. And then I begin to wonder why you chose me in the first place. It's strange, to not be able to ask you anything, to feel like you're hiding things. And just now, when I—you—" She bit off her word with a small sob.

I took her in my arms, letting the sheet drape over our waists. "Ino," I murmured into her neck. "I don't think I should—"

"I want to know!" she burst out. "I_ have_ to know, Kiba. If I'm competing for your heart, racing with a ghost of someone you used to love—I have to know how the hell I'm supposed to be that! How can I win against something I know _nothing _about?" She finished with a bitter sob, holding onto me more tightly.

I chewed my lip, wondering how I could say anything. What was I supposed to tell her? That she couldn't win, that her battle had been lost far before it'd ever been fought? I couldn't tell her that. I was too nice.

"It's…different…" I began, not sure where my words were headed. I had to try my hardest to toe the boundaries. I didn't want to say anything to hurt her. I laughed weakly. "I don't know how to explain. I mean, would it hurt you if…if...I told you he tasted like you...only sweeter? That you're so gentle, and he was so rough? He was never the type to exchange many formalities. My mother never met him, and he and I hid best we could from everyone. There were so many secrets, in such little time. It was…difficult. A challenged love, you could say."

"He tasted…sweeter?" she repeated, toneless.

"Perhaps." I kissed her neck, pressing her close to me. I wanted to feel skin on skin, and forget about everyone. I didn't want to remember anything of him. If anything, I tried my hardest to forget. What other explanation was there for my being with Ino not a month after he had left, and then continuing on for five months after that? That was my explanation—I wanted to forget, because there was so much pain. Not pain he had caused, but more so the pain of having to hide. I didn't like that kind of hiding. It hurt far too many souls.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I purred. "I have you now. And…I like the way you're so gentle, so sweet. It's a nice change, to have somebody who knows I have limits."

Ino blinked a few times, coming out of her state. "I'm glad you like me," she whispered in her softest, most girlish voice. "What do you say we play a little more, big dog?"

"Sounds good to me," I laughed, trying my hardest to please her.

_Even…even if this is all a lie…I need to continue. I have to forget…for her sake._

Ino straddled my body, cocking her head to the side. She bent lower and settled on top of me, her voice become softer, so I could hardly hear it. "I'm going to prove how much I love, Inuzuka Kiba," she whispered, giggling as I traced her hips with my hands. "Just you wait."


	16. Into Disaster

Author's Note: Uh, by the way…there's kind of a misunderstanding. I don't think KibaxIno is a cute couple. At least, not in this fanfic. I'm more ShinoxIno fan, anyway. But yeah, a slightly shorter chapter. My, I've been writing a lot!

**Sixteen. Into Disaster**

**Kankuro**

Gaara stood over me, brandishing a large, red-trimmed scroll.

"What is it?" I asked, raising my head. The single shaft of light that slipped though the open door hit my eye. I winced, turning away.

Gaara nudged me with his foot. "An invitation," he said. "The Chuunin exams are once again taking place in Konaha."

"So? It's not like we have any shinobi to send."

Gaara shook his head. "You misunderstand me. This is not an invitation for our students—it's an invitation for us. They wish for us to come and watch the finals."

"Go back…to Konaha?" I lifted my head, half-elated, half-pleading. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him so, so badly. But yet, I _didn't _want to go. What if he'd moved on? I didn't think I could handle it, seeing him with someone else.

"Yes. We have received their invitation, and I wrote back a message saying that we would attend."

"You can attend. I'm not leaving this room."

Gaara rolled his eyes. "It's not like that's much of a threat. The last time you moved from this room was what, three months ago?"

"It was two weeks," I pouted.

"Long enough," Gaara sighed. He put a hand to his head, running it though his short hair. He closed his eyes, obviously trying to keep his temper in check. His patience with me was wearing thin. "You're getting soft, Kankuro. You used to be so ambitious. And now, one bad day, and suddenly you're incapacitated for five _months_? Not, weeks, not days, but months, Kankuro. _Months_. I can't have you sitting here any longer."

"So? Send me on another mission or something, if you want me out of here so badly." I put an arm on the window sill, opening the curtain just a fraction. The sunlight that seeped in through the open space was blinding. Somewhere far off, I could hear the wind. Wind. How long had it been since I had felt that element on my face?

"I do have a mission for you," Gaara hissed. "And it starts as of now."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Get up, get dressed." He threw a set of black robes, trimmed with gold, at me. I had never seen them before. "Those were made for you specially. I decided that we needed to look a bit more…presentable for this mission. Now hurry up. I leave in an hour, and if you're not there I'll be forced to find you and give you a refresher course on why you are to obey me."

"Gaara?"

He closed his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "What?"

"What sort of mission is this?"

"I thought it would be obvious, Kankuro," he said, turning his basilisk glare on me. "It is simple, and it's not like you haven't done it a thousand times before. You are to come with me, and you will be my bodyguard on the journey and throughout my stay in Konaha. And I won't take no for an answer."

Konaha was bright, and alive with the smells and sounds of a festival. Vendors called out the names of their different foods, children raced underfoot, eager to play the carnival games, and various jounin stumbled out of bars, clearly hammered.

One little girl and her brother ducked between my legs, and I stumbled, nearly losing my balance. "Stupid brats," I muttered.

"Kankuro," Gaara barked from my right. "Stand up straight. You represent Suna. At least try to act in some sort of respectable manner."

I frowned, but said nothing. Gaara was wearing his Kazekage robes, and he seemed to be a lot taller than I remembered. His face was covered by a veil, and the pointed hat that adorned his head covered up all traces of his red hair. The only way to identify he was still Gaara was either by his dark-rimmed eyes, which were constantly searching the streets, or the large gourd of sand on his back.

Gaara eyes turned back to look at me. "Those robes look good on you, by the way," he added. "I knew I chose the right colors."

I did a turn in the middle of the street, watching how the sleeves flowed. "I should probably thank you, shouldn't I, you little troublesome brat?"

"Watch who you're talking to," he warned, but his tone held no malice. He was merely being playful, something he didn't do that often.

"Turn here," Gaara said, pointing to a large bar. "This is where we're meeting Temari."

"And she's with Nara?"

"Supposedly. Though last I talked to her, they were having a fight of some sort. I can never tell if that's a good sign or not."

I eyed the bar carefully, then slipped inside ahead of Gaara.

"Hey, Gaara!" I heard Temari shout. She was sitting in a table with Nara, along with a blonde shinobi I recognized as Yamanaka Ino. Temari waved us over, yelling to the bartender that we would need more drinks.

Gaara sat down, and I quickly followed suit. Yamanaka frowned, and looked at me as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"K-Kankuro," Temari stuttered, nervously drumming her fingers on the tabletop. She seemed to be nervous of my presence. That was unusual. "I though you weren't coming."

"The _Kazekage_ told me I had no choice. I'm not allowed to sit and brood in my own dark corner. I have to get up and face the world."

A buxom waitress set a glass of sake down in front of me. I picked it up and sipped at it, just to have something to do with my hands and mouth. I needed to constantly have my hands doing something, or else I would go crazy. That I was sure of.

"Heeeey, Kankuro," Ino smiled. Her voice was sweet, like a cleverly disguised toxic poison. You knew it was dangerous, but you just couldn't figure out why.

"Ino," I smiled, trying to rid myself of the urge to vomit. "Good to see you. How have you been?"

"Excellent." She smiled in her soft, girlish way.

"Party downtown tonight," Shikamaru said, wrapping his hand around Temari's. "You guys are coming, right?"

"I have a date, of course," Ino bragged, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulders. She sipped her drink and eyed me carefully. I wondered if she expected me to be jealous of her, for some reason. Then again, maybe it was just the lighting in the bar. I couldn't tell.

Gaara smiled acidly. "Of course we are. Won't it be fun, Kankuro?"

"Fun," I breathed.

Fun. Right. I had almost forgotten what fun was.

And the way Ino was staring at me, with that venomous grin of hers, I had a feeling that trying to have fun was only going to be the beginning of my problems.


	17. Six Hours

Author's Note: Sorry, your KanKi smut is coming, okay? (I promised, so here it is!) I like to draw things out, in case you haven't noticed. Please just read and review, as always. But yeah…Kanky likes hamburgers, Gaara likes…salted tongue. Ew…

**Seventeen. Six Hours**

**Kiba**

My jaw dropped. I felt it slacken, and my stomach curdled like I'd just been punched. No, it couldn't be. But how? And _why_?

Ino grinned up at me, hanging onto my arm so hard I though it was about to fall off. "Something wrong, Kiba, honey?"

I shook my head. Maybe I was seeing things. When I re-opened my eyes, however, he was still there, standing next to Gaara, having a quiet argument. "Man, I'm starved," he was saying. "Can't we stop and get something to eat? There's a guy over there flipping some lovely hamburgers, and I just…oh, man, they look _so_ good."

"Just a minute," Gaara replied. "I want to find a stand with some decent salted tongue. It's hard to find good tongue outside of Suna, you know."

"That's disgusting!"

"You want disgusting? Go eat your hamburger."

"Fine."

I watched as Kankuro stormed off, Gaara's gaze boring through his back. It seemed the festival was getting to both of them.

I raced past Ino, leaving her calling, "Kiba? _Kiba, where the hell are you going_?"

My feet carried me, though crowds and past vendors and game booths of all sorts. Finally, I saw what I had been looking for: the hamburger stand. It was like I had finally decided to commit suicide. That's how stupid I had finally become.

Because being with him, even for only five minutes, was suicide. Even I knew that.

I could see him, leaning back in his chair, drinking a glass of sake and putting more ketchup on his hamburger. He looked so clean, so happy, like a character from a movie. Could I bring myself to ruin that for him?

"Hey." Yes. Yes, I could.

He looked up, and I saw his eyes widen. His jaw dropped, just as mine had. Then he regained his composure, and the facade he had been wearing slipped back into place. "Kiba."

I nearly cried. All this time, I had been revering him almost as a god, something I could not bring myself to touch, something that controlled my every movement, every breath, every word. And now he had a smear of ketchup on his lip, and I broke down. Kankuro was a person—and he meant everything to me.

Just seeing him, that way, so innocent and real, made me want to vomit. How could I have treated him like he was so much more, like he was Gaara, someone who could not be touched or spoken to? How could I?

I reached out with my hand and picked up the napkin, wiping the smear away. He was a god again, and so much more than I deserved.

His fingers trembled as he brought them to his lips, feeling where I had wiped away his stain. "Why…why did you just…"

That was when I ran. I couldn't stand to have him staring at me any longer, so beautiful and pure and good. I had seen him as a human once, with human mistakes. And then, after I replayed that night over and over again in my head, I saw my fatal mistake—I has assumed that he knew everything I did, that because he was older he knew what it felt like, to have someone on you, pushing you for more. But he hadn't. Something told me he had felt just as scared as I did, not knowing anything but what he had learned from instinct. I played that memory over and over again, reminding myself. He was scared, too.

Before I knew it, I had come to _love_ him.

"Kiba," he yelled. "Kiba, wait, please!"

I finally stopped in front of a large tree, leaning against it. I couldn't bring myself to run any farther.

He wasn't far behind, being extremely fast for his build. He came to stop, standing five feet from my limp body. "Inuzuka," he growled. "What the hell was that back there? You think you can just…and not stay to say hello…damn. I don't even know what to…dammit." He leaned against the tree, trying to catch his breath.

I stood up, leaning next to him. I couldn't talk to him—not now. I needed to see him later, after the shock had set in, and after the sun had gone down and he had stopped being a god.

"Later," I murmured into his ear, feeling the heat from his cheek, so close to my own. "Later, tonight, around midnight. Meet me in apartment 6-C, in the building across from the market place. I'll leave the door open for you."

And with that, my legs found their strength again, and I ran off, leaving him there, still trying to catch his breath.

And he still looked like a god.

Night seeped into Ino's apartment like a fog. Cool and sweet, I stood at the window while she slept, watching the lights of the festival off in the distance.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," I whispered.

"Kiba? Where the hell are you?"

"Be quiet," I said, keeping my voice low. "Do you want to wake her?"

"Her?"

Kankuro stepped into the moonlight, and I could see him clearly now. His eyes widened as he saw Ino on the bed, and me standing at the window sill, clothed in nothing but a bed sheet. I had wrapped it around my waist for modesty's sake.

"Oh," he said. "That explains it."

"_I still can't believe how many people have found us out already," I groaned. "First Shino, then Hinata, and now Ino somehow knows…."_

_Kankuro sat up. "Ino?" he frowned. "How in the world does she know anything? She's such a blonde!"_

"Explains what?"

"I ran into her in the bar earlier today. She kept looking at me the oddest way, like she expected jealously or rage out of me. I didn't know why…at least, not until now." He hung his head, sitting down in a chair in the corner of the room. "I can't believe you're sleeping with her."

"Shit happens."

Kankuro cocked his head. "Why'd you ask me to come here? Won't she wake up?"

"Ino?" I shook my head. "Nah, she's a heavy sleeper. A bit of sex and sake and she'll be out cold for a good six hours."

"Six hours," he murmured.

I walked over to him and put my lips down to his jaw. "So I have six hours to say I'm sorry."

I settled into his lap, kissing him with a passion I hadn't felt in a very, very long time. Having Ino on the other side of the room made me nervous, but not nervous enough to stop. I had to keep going. I had to let him know, before it was too late for me to say anything.

Kankuro pulled back. "You're cheating on her, Kiba."

"So? She's cheated on me before—that not that she knows that I know. But hey, Shino talks."

I undid his robes, feeling downward for what I needed. I found it, and took it in my hand. Then I slipped off the chair, kneeling onto the floor.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asked again.

I nodded. I had been sure for so long now, it didn't even matter anymore. I had replayed this moment over and over in my head, struggling to get details into the right places. But now everything was perfect.

I took him in my mouth. He moaned loudly. I began to suck, teasing and twisting my tongue. He began to shudder. His breath grew faster, faster. His hips began to slowly quiver, and his whole body shook.

"Kiba," he whimpered. "Kiba, oh god, Kibaaaa!"

He released into my mouth, and I could taste him. Salty and sweet, mixed with sweat and something that was just Kankuro's own taste.

I brought my mouth up to his, just so he could taste it, too. He moaned into my mouth, still breathing heavily. The sheet slipped off my waist, and his hands dove.

He began to move his fingers slowly, then faster. I moaned, and bit into his shoulder to keep myself from screaming. I was just about at peak, and suddenly he stopped.

He sat frozen, eyes fixated behind my head. "Kankuro?" I asked timidly.

"I have to go." He gave me a full kiss on the mouth, clinging like he never wanted to let go.

I didn't want to let go, either.

But eventually he pulled himself away, and I found myself tracing my lips, swollen as they were.

He whispered in my ear, his voice throbbing. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Right here, in this chair."

"I look forward to it." I whispered back, having trouble keeping my voice low. "But why do you have to leave?"

Kankuro opened the window and slipped out onto the balcony, jabbing his thumb back towards the bed. I could see visible pain in his eyes, and I realized he wanted to be the one in that bed, not Ino. It broke my heart.

Kankuro's eyes flickered to the bed, then back to mine, where his gaze locked. "She's finally awake."


	18. Deciding Fate

Author's Note: This is what we call _'le plot twist'_, children!

**Eighteen. Deciding Fate**

**Ino**

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and pretended to not have seen Kankuro. But I had. I'd been awake for longer than he or Kiba had anticipated. I'd heard them, the way Kiba insulted me, and so blatantly cheated on my heart.

How _could_ he? What did Kankuro have that I didn't?

"_Nah, she's a heavy sleeper. A bit of sex and sake and she'll be out cold for a good six hours." _

I smiled to myself, remembering the line. Stupid, stupid Kiba. Such a mutt. If it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have had any experience to offer up to that stupid sand shinobi, anyway. Cheating on me? He should have been thanking me.

"Kiiiba," I murmured, watching the sun slowly lace its way through the curtains. "Kiba, come here and let me wish you good morning."

"Not now," he murmured, his eyes still fixed to the window.

I rose from the tangled mass of sheets, going to the window to hug him from behind. I buried my face in the hot, still-flushed skin of his back.

"_Kiba," he whimpered. "Kiba, oh god, Kibaaaa!"_

It sounded terrible in my head. He shouldn't have even been allowed to say Kiba's name, let alone to cry it out in ecstasy, the way he had.

Fuck Kankuro, shinobi of Suna. Kiba was _mine_.

I kissed his shoulder blades, leaving wet trace. He didn't respond. And when I moved my hand down, to touch like I normally did, he pulled away.

"Not now, Ino."

Although, it sounded more like "not ever" than "not now". And I knew exactly why—Kankuro had touched him there, and he wanted to respect the memory.

He wanted to respect Kankuro's memory, not mine. Of all the times_ I _had touched him there, all the times _he_ had caused me to cry _his_ name...he still didn't care. My memories meant nothing to him.

And, while it saddened me, a new feeling rose up in me: hate.

I had never truly hated a person before, but now that Kankuro was taking the one thing I had left…I hated him for it. Before this, Kankuro hadn't been real. He'd been like a fleeting shadow, present at sometimes, gone the next. And now, that shadow had become ever-present, clinging to my heels with every step.

I couldn't be Kankuro—but I _could_ be someone else.

Kiba finally decided to leave around noon, saying he had to go watch some of the chuunin exams. I volunteered to go with him. We showered together, and as he splashed water at me, it was like nothing had happened.

At least, not until that dark look crept over his features once again, and the seeing hatred rose up within me.

Even as we dressed, the look stayed, permanently etched onto his face. It drove me mad. I had sacrificed enough for him—couldn't he bear to do the same?

We crossed out of the apartment and onto the street, weaving through the crowds of people, headed toward the stadium. I grabbed Kiba's hand to keep us from being separated. He didn't greet the gesture with enthusiasm, but he didn't shy away, either.

We stopped by a small tea shop. Kiba motioned for me to come inside.

I followed, and saw Hinata waving us over to a small table in the corner of the room. Shino was there with her, looking stoic as ever.

Shino…how long had it been?

"_Shino," I breathed, feeling him on top of me. "Please, don't stop. Keep going."_

_He said nothing, but continued to tease more. Shino seemed a lot like Kiba in that respect—he went his own way in life, and didn't care what others thought._

"_You shouldn't do this to Kiba," he finally said, kneeling over me._

"_Why not? He cheats on me with his heart. It's the same thing."_

_Finally he pushed into me, and I whimpered. I stared into his deep, dark eyes, feeling not at all like myself. Was this what it was like to have someone stare at you and see only you, and not someone else?_

_I liked that feeling, what ever it was._

_He kept moving inside me, faster, faster. "Shino, I think I love you," I whispered._

_He said nothing as the rush came, sweet and white. My blood flowed more rapidly, my breath quickened, my body flushed. I kept breathing, heavily, letting his name escape my lips in small intervals. "Shino," I murmured._

_He sat up, pulling me into his arms. I laid my head on his bare shoulder, soaking it with tears. "He cheats on me with his heart, Shino. All because of that damn puppet master."_

_Shino pulled back. "Then break up with him."_

_There was the answer, so simple and blunt. Shino always spoke the truth. He also said to always have an ace in the hole._

"_I don't think I can," I sobbed. "I really don't think I can. He's…mine. I just…I can't give him up, even if it will make him happy. What about my own happiness?"_

_Shino kissed my head, and whispered softly. "Does he really make you happy?"_

_Of course, there was my true answer. But I didn't want to think about that. I just didn't._

Shino sat across from me, sipping slowly at his cup of tea. Always have an ace in the hole, huh?

The more I thought about, the more I realized I had my own ace in this entire mess, if only I was strong enough to use it.

"Kiba." I tugged at his sleeve, pleading. "Can we go now? I…I really don't feel good."

And, shortly after I said the phrase, I slumped into a heap on the table. I heard Hinata gasp, and Shino just pushed his glasses up with one finger.

"Ino," he whispered. His voice was sad, and I knew that he _knew_. Nothing got past Shino's eyes. "What have you done now?"

Nobody seemed to realize what I had just done. Kiba hadn't even seen me make the hand sign that would seal his and Kankuro's fates.

I hauled my limp body out of the tea shop, surprised at my new strength. I even ran a little, just to feel the strong muscles in my legs working. Akamaru stayed beside me, but he seemed to sense that something was different. I just smiled. "Come on, boy. We'll take her home and let her rest up."

I walked towards my apartment, feeling power I hadn't felt in a long time.

Tonight, Kankuro would get his just desserts—and there was nothing Kiba could do about it.

I lay my body on the bed and sat down, waiting until nightfall. Kankuro would be back, and I would have to be ready. I practiced acting like Kiba in front of the mirror, trying to be hot-headed and playful. It took quite a bit, but finally I got it down.

And, as promised, midnight came. My real body was still limp, spread out underneath the bed sheets.

I heard a rustle, and Kankuro slipped though the window with the greatest of ease. He smiled upon seeing me. His features and markings were greatly exaggerated in the moonlight—he finally looked like the monster he was.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, where he slipped his hand behind my head. "Good to see you."

"I guess I can say the same."

He laughed. "You guess?"

Then his other hand curled behind my head, and he pulled me into a soft, sweet kiss. His tongue probed my mouth, and his hand slid down, caressing my collarbone.

"_I don't know how to explain. I mean, would it hurt you if…I told you he tasted like you, only sweeter? That you're so gentle, and he was so rough? He was never the type to exchange many formalities." _

_Only sweeter._

_Sweeter._

I gasped, and pulled away. I could still taste Kankuro on my lips. I licked him off, savoring the flavor. This was the boy that drove Kiba mad? Sitting there, on the edge of the bed, steeped in moonlight, I didn't doubt it.

"_That you're so gentle, and he was so rough?"_

Wasn't that what Kiba had said? Kankuro grabbed my lips in another kiss, and I knew what Kiba had meant. I felt my pants tighten. Was I…enjoying this? Then I realized I was not the one reacting. Kiba, calling out from somewhere deep inside his psyche, was the one who was making his body react this way.

I quickly pulled back, swiping Kankuro's hands away. Somewhere from inside Kiba's head, his spirit cried out. He knew what I was going to do—what it'd do to him. Granted, after I left the body he'd have no memory of the possession. It would just be a gap in his memory, much like the blackouts he had after drinking too much sake. Still, it hurt to hear him sob, all the same.

"Kankuro," I whispered, surprised that my voice came out as Kiba's, and not as the timid voice of the girl I was. I felt like that right now—a timid, powerless girl.

"What?" His question was soft, and a bit sharp around the edges. "Is there something wrong?"

"Kankuro, I…I don't want to do this anymore."

He visibly breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god." He murmured, flopping backwards onto the empty half of the bed. "I'm getting sick of this, too. Kiba, I—I think it's time we started a real relationship. None of this sneaking around anymore. I want to be honest, like we have nothing to hide. We shouldn't have a reason to be ashamed." His chest rose and fell as he spoke, struggling to get the words out, but obviously relieved he had said them. "I want to rid myself of this dirty feeling I get from going behind everyone's backs…I want to be _clean_."

I sat in silence, trying to find my voice. My throat had suddenly gone dry. But I had to find my words, somehow. I had to do this—for my sake, as well as Kiba's.

"That's not what I meant."

Kankuro looked surprised. "Then what did you mean?"

"I don't want to see you anymore, Kankuro." My voice was flat, not showing any emotion. Tears splattered onto the white sheet, making it grey. My tears?

_No, not mine. Kiba's._

"You…you don't?" The hurt in his voice was too much. I could feel Kiba, screaming anything and everything in the back of his mind. He wanted me to take it back, to stop. But I couldn't—not when I had come so far.

"I love Ino now," I continued. "I want you to go away—far away. Don't come back. Don't ever speak to me again. Don't look at me. Maybe someday, our paths will cross again, and then you can stare from a distance. You can say 'hey, that's the guy I used to love'. And then I'll stare, too, and then our eyes will drop, and we'll go on with our lives."

I put my hand to Kiba's chest. That's whose heart was breaking right now. Not mine—Kiba's. The pain was so great; I thought that his heart was going to burst. Not dramatically, but slowly burst, like a balloon, slowly deflating from an unseen leak.

Kankuro rose from the bed. He said nothing, but more tears dripped on the white sheets, mingling with the tears that flowed from my eyes, turning the sheet a soft shade of violet. Kankuro was crying—I had never seen him look so human, or so furious.

"You bastard," he hissed, turning towards me. I could fully see his face now, contorted and eerily frightening in the darkness. "Is that you're game, leading me on like this? You _enjoy_ doing that? You like bragging to your little teammates, laughing at my words?" He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of a gloved hand. "It took me a long time to say those words," he whispered. "So long…and you just throw them away, like they mean nothing to you. Well you know what, mutt? _I love you_. I always will. And if this is what you want…if this is…for the _best_…then I guess I won't go against you." He sighed, and laughed bitterly before continuing. "But of course, that doesn't mean I'll forgive you. _Never_. I put too much heart into this to let my wounds open again. So tell me again, you little mutt…is this what you want? You…you want me to leave you…_that_ much?"

My answer was already on my lips, flat and echoing in the dark room. "Yes."

Kankuro turned. He didn't say anything. He didn't scream or sob or beg. He just opened the window and calmly slipped out onto the quiet street. I heard his feet hit the ground, then race away, eager to get as far from Kiba as possible.

I released Kiba, flowing back into my own body. I felt oddly disjointed, a normal feeling after the jutsu. Still, this was more so disjointed than usual. I felt…empty.

Then I took the sheets and dried his tears before stripping the bed and throwing the bedding in my laundry pile. Kiba was sleeping soundly, still wearing his mesh shirt and black pants. Akamaru, I knew, was curled up in the living room, also sleeping quietly.

The air was heavy with sorrow—I could feel it. It was thick and heavy, just like a humid breeze before a storm. I could almost smell it.

I changed out of my clothes and slipped into bed beside Kiba, falling asleep almost instantly. The jutsu had taken a lot out of me.

And, just like life, the night went on.


	19. Nothing More Than Tears

Author's Note: It broke my heart, writing that last chapter. I almost wanted to cry. Poor Kankuro. Can't anything every work out right for him?

**Nineteen. Nothing More Than Tears**

**Kankuro**

_He doesn't want me…hates me…can't stand…_

I ran down the dark street, stopping once I reached the forest. I had gone too far. Our hotel room was all the way on the other side of town, closer to the festival.

I dropped to my knees, too mentally and emotionally exhausted to go any farther. Kiba didn't want me anymore. I couldn't believe he'd said that. To tell me that we needed a break, or that he couldn't hurt Ino anymore, or that he just felt we weren't right together—that was one thing.

But what he'd suggested, that we'd never speak, and that I couldn't look at him, not even from a distance—that broke my heart.

And all that I said to him, that damn high-and-mighty speech I had to force down his throat…it was all true. All of it.

I loved him, no matter what he said. I had a feeling it would never fade, much like how even though wounds from a battle healed, the memories and the scars never entirely disappeared.

My legs worked of their own will, until I was on my feet, mindlessly running towards the other side of town, to the festival. I didn't know whether or not Temari was still out and about with Nara. They might have already gone in.

Still, I needed to find someone, anyone. I needed a shoulder to break down on, even if it was the shoulder of a complete stranger.

Hell, I also needed some ramen. I made a sharp left and turned into the Ichiraku Ramen Shop. The place was deserted, save for two chunin who were busy scarfing down what looked to be their fifth bowl of ramen each.

I handed the waitress my money. "I'm going to need a glass of sake, too."

"Rough night?"

"You've no idea," I sighed.

Ten minutes later, I had a hot bowl of ramen and a small glass of sake sitting in front of me. I grabbed my chopsticks and began to slurp the hot noodles before I realized something was splattering in my soup. I looked upward. Rain or a busted water pipe, maybe?

Nope, the ceiling was clear. I raised a gloved hand to wipe my eyes, and that was when I realized what I had been seeing. Tears. They were coursing down my face, hot a salty. My eyes stung. The more tears I wiped away, the more that came. I couldn't help it.

Finally I put my head on the bar and silently sobbed. I didn't care if I represented Suna anymore, nor did I care if anyone saw or cared. I wanted to cry, so I was going to cry, dammit!

"K-Kankuro-san? Is t-that you?"

I raised my head, opening one paint-smeared eye. "Hyuuga Hinata?" I was surprised to see her. I certainly didn't expect to find her at a place like this, at this late at night.

She nodded. "I saw your p-puppet, and I thought maybe we could…t-talk. You seem sad."

"I'm not _sad_," I growled. "If anything, I'm majorly pissed off."

She jumped at the anger in my tone. "Oh. May I ask what has you so angry?"

I perked up a bit. She was a strange one, always speaking so formally. But…could I tell her? She'd been a genin with Kiba, and she'd trained with him for so long. No, I couldn't press my problems onto her. It was better to leave them be.

I rose from my chair, draining the last of my sake. I heaved Karasu onto my back, turning to smile weakly at Hinata. "It's nothing. I think I'm going to head home now, anyway. Good night, Hinata."

"Good night, Kankuro," she called.

I didn't look back as I ran. I couldn't. She didn't need to see me crying again.

"Kankuro, you look terrible!" Temari cried upon my arrival back at the house. She was dressed in a bathrobe, and Shikamaru was entirely shirtless, and his pants were unbuttoned. I had evidently interrupted something, but I didn't care. If she wanted to act like a big sister, than now was her chance.

I sank down next to her on the floor, dropping Karasu at the door. Shikamaru went over and opened the window, lighting up a smoke. "What's the deal, kid? You look like something the cat dragged in."

"Shikamaru!" Temari hissed.

"What? It's the truth."

My eyes began to sting again. "If you love someone, you do what they ask no matter what, right?" I whispered, a lump rising in my throat. It was so hard to speak, or even think, for that matter. My chest ached, and I felt like my heart was beginning to decompose into nothingness.

Shikamaru dropped his smoke outside the window and came over to us, sitting down beside Temari. "That's generally the idea," he said.

I lay back onto Temari's bedspread. "Then I love him," I said. "It's that simple."

"Nothing's ever that simple," Shikamaru groaned. "Love is such a—"

"_Shikamaru_!"

"I mean…love is a wonderful gift…and all that…crap…." he continued, fingering a pack of cigarettes he had in his pocket.

Temari knelt over me. "So what did he ask you to do for him?" she asked. "Is it…_that_ sort of thing? Do you want to talk to Gaara about it, instead?"

"Heel no!" I growled, pulling her pillow over my face. "It's…much worse than that. He told me that he wants me to stay away…that he and I can't…" I choked and sat up, rubbing more tears from my eyes. "He doesn't want me." The tears continued to fall in small drops, just like my words. "It's like one of those bad dreams…I just kept running, but I couldn't go fast enough. I think I'm losing it, Temari."

"Did he give you a reason why?"

"He loves Ino. Our feelings were getting in the way of that. And if that's what he truly wants…what he needs…is _her_, then I guess I've nothing to do but respect that."

"You're doing the right thing, Kankuro," Temari assured me. She removed my headpiece and stroked my hair. I felt like I was a child again, small and helpless.

Shikamaru frowned. "That doesn't sound like Kiba."

I laughed coldly. "You're wrong, Nara. If you think that doesn't sound like Kiba, then you've never even met him."

The next day Temari told Gaara to let me sleep. He obeyed her, but not without questioning her motives. She was forced to explain everything, so he knew. But it didn't matter—it was all over now, anyway. What had happened was old news.

Around noon I got quite hungry. I grabbed some money off the counter—not bothering to re-apply my paint or grab my headband—and headed out towards the festival. I was hungry for some ramen again, so I stopped by Ichiraku.

I had just sat down when a strand of long purple hair fluttered past my face. "Kankuro, is t-that you? I though it might be."

"Hinata," I said, smiling as she sat down next to me. "It's good to see you. Are you hungry for some ramen? You seem to come here an awful lot."

She blushed. "N-no, not ramen…I come here because sometimes Naruto…"

My heart ached. This girl wasn't so different from me. "So you're also…pining for a love that can't be?"

"I-I guess so…I'm…n-not really sure if Naruto likes me back or n-not…"

"Looks like we have something in common, then."

Oh." She glanced down, stirring her ramen with her chopsticks. "So…you and Kiba…"

"He said he didn't want to see me anymore."

"And that's why you were…so sad last night?"

Her large lavender-white eyes shimmered with tears. She was sad for me? My heart was suddenly very heavy. How many more people in this world were like the two of us, so filled with heartache it pained them to meet others like themselves?

"Hinata! There you are. Shino and I have been…Kankuro? What are you doing here?"

I didn't answer. Not talking had been his idea, not mine.

"Kankuro? Hellooooo? Anyone home in there?" Then he did the strangest thing: he kissed me. His lips pecked my cheek, sending warmth spreading through my stomach.

I flushed with rage. What the hell kind of game was he playing? "Don't touch me!" I yelled, knocking my chair backwards as I stood up. "_Didn't I tell you how sick I am of your fucking games_? What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you think I'm your toy? _Do you_?"

"Kankuro, I-I…"

"Get the hell out of my sight. If you're going to ask the same of me, at least make it easy."

Kiba's mouth gaped, searching for words that wouldn't come. He looked as though I had slapped him. Tears ran down his cheeks. "You're cruel." Akamaru, waiting patiently at Kiba's feet, began to whine.

"I love you."

"Then maybe you should fucking act like it once and a while," he whispered.

Beside me, I heard Hinata intake a sharp breath. She evidently didn't like conflict. Kiba's eyes were hard, fixated on mine. The tears blurred out his pupils. I couldn't read all of his expression, but I could see anger, hurt, confusion…fear. Dammit. He was the last person that deserved to feel any of those things.

He turned and bolted, Akamaru on his heels. Hinata began to sob, but said nothing. I couldn't blame her—I wanted to cry more than anyone.

The cloth that hung over the shop entrance rustled, and Shino entered.

"Kankuro," he said. "There's something I need to tell you."


	20. Tea With Temari

Author's Note: Third-person again. Probably semi-clichéd, but whatever. Don't worry, all will unfold very soon. Just sit back and be tortured—I mean, entertained…and keep it up, my lovely readers and reviewers! You guys are awesome!

**Twenty. Tea With Temari**

Temari entered the doorway of a small teashop. It seemed like a facility that she would normally pass right by, but today she had a purpose in noticing. Shikamaru had left early, taking just enough time to kiss her goodbye and whisper the plans for the day in her ear. And, as it so happened, meeting at this tea shop was all part of the plan.

He was having a smoke at the back table when she entered, looking good as ever. She crossed the wooden floor. Shikamaru's head rose. "Hey. Good to see you."

She grinned. "I'd hope so. Although, it was even better seeing you last night."

"Should we make tonight a replay of that, then?"

Temari sighed, and a dark shadow fell across her thoughts. "A replay without interruption, hopefully."

Shikamaru fell silent, lingering on his smoke. The waitress passed, and Temari ordered a cup of tea. The minutes passed silently, the waitress brought Temari's tea and left.

Shikamaru finally spoke again. "Poor guy. He just never gets a break, does he?"

Temari sipped at her tea. "It's strange, seeing him this way. I've never really seen him show any emotions besides anger or fear. To see him in love…it's scary. I don't think he ever even imagined what he was getting into when all of this started."

"None of us ever expect it to be this troublesome. Books and people make it sound like it's all puppies and rainbows. Truthfully, I think love is almost harder than being a shinobi. At least a shinobi has set boundaries, set rules. Love has just about none of the above."

Temari toyed with her mug, drumming her fingers around the rim. "I wish I could have told him…I should have been more persistent…before things got so complicated."

Shikamaru shook his head, putting out his smoke on the table. "You couldn't have known, Temari. Didn't you say this whole thing developed on a mission Gaara sent Kankuro on?" he frowned. "How troublesome. Those two…they're just going to have to work out their problems They have to realize that…they're so much alike they can't stand one another. It's something you can't help them with. Think of it as a final mission. They're both going to come out of it dead or alive, and you can't be there to help either one of them." He pounded his fist onto the table, causing Temari's mug of tea to jump a few inches. "You just can't save everyone, no matter how much you want to!"

"Calm down, Shikamaru. This is about Kankuro and Kiba, not Asuma."

"I know," he mumbled, resting his head on the smooth tabletop. "I know. It's just…I know what it's like to have that constant fear of losing someone. How it hurts, how you feel like you can't ever breathe again."

"And you think I haven't felt that? What about the time when Gaara nearly died, or all those times he and Kankuro came so close to killing one another? That's why I was born first…to keep the peace. And now, I'm not even sure if I can keep my own peace anymore."

The bell above the shop door rang. A slender blonde shinobi strode in, looking very perplexed, as though she wasn't sure where she was. Then she spotted Shikamaru at his table in the corner, and her expression became a bit brighter.

"Shikamaruuuu!" she crooned.

"Ino. What brings you here?" he said.

She blushed, and her expression became guilty. "I-I've done something horrible."

"So?" he waved his dead smoke around in the air, waiting for an answer. "What'd you do, sleep with Shino again?"

"No…it's…it's worse than that."

Shikamaru looked shocked. He was silent, as though he could not come to terms with the magnitude of trouble she had just expressed. "Damn it, Ino," he finally growled. "How can you have done something that bad?"

"Well," she began, taking a seat next to him. "You know how Kiba was in love with Kankuro? I sort of…took drastic measures into my own hands…"

"Shintenshin no jutsu? Ino, you didn't—"

"But I just had to!" she burst out. "I mean, that freak with the face paint was hoarding in on _my_ territory!"

"'Freak'?" Temari questioned. Her voice had sharpened considerably, and a malignant gleam lingered in her eyes. "That 'freak' you just spoke of happens to be my little brother."

Ino's eyes widened, as though she was fully registering Temari's presence for the first time. "Oh. I mean—"

"What the hell do you mean, 'shintenshin no jutsu'?" Someone else yelled, bursting though the door. The bell chimed once, twice, thrice. Three more figures entered the shop, one of whom was still shouting. "Do you mean to tell me that dumb blonde used some sort of party trick on Kiba?"

"Kankuro," Shino said, keeping his voice level. "Lower your voice. If you upset the other customers, they'll force us to leave." His eyes flickered over the customers, taking in their expressions one by one. His eyes met Ino's, and there was a split second for the time it took his brain to register his presence. "No, not _here_."

Kankuro and Hinata—who had loyally stayed by the Suna shinobi's side—followed Shino's gaze.

"Oh, hell," Kankuro muttered.

"K-Kankuro," Hinata said in her small voice. "Please, don't hurt—"

But it was far too late. Kankuro had already stormed over to the corner table, where Shikamaru sat with Temari on his left and Ino on his right.

"You," he snarled.

"Me," she smiled, not showing any fear. "What are you going to do about it, anyways?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't see a puppet on your back. What, you going to defend your boyfriend's honor here? Don't even try. Without that dolly of yours there's nothing—"

Her words ended there. Kankuro floored her with a well-placed punch to the nose, knocking her backwards off her chair and sending her flying, where she landed in a heap in front of Shino.

Shino grabbed Kankuro's upper arm. "Stop it," he said. His tone was even, but a bit of anger bit into it. "Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. The thing that's important is that you know what happened. Our only choice now is to find Kiba and get out of this whole mess."

Ino groaned from the floor. "Finding Kiba…will be tough…once he runs off, you can't catch him. He…he won't want to be…caught."

Shino gave her his hand and helped her off the ground. He pulled her in closer and stared her down for a minute. Nobody could tell what exactly passed between them, but something inside Ino seemed to change.

"Kankuro," Ino whispered, turning towards him. "I know that this is one of those times when nothing will make your frustration go away. I can understand if you hate me, if you never forgive me. But please…I'm sorry."

She meant it, too. Kankuro could tell that from the bottom of her heart, she was sorry. She had meant to cause pain to him and him alone, but she'd ended up hurting Kiba, as well. And by hurting Kiba, she seemed to have also wounded her own pride. Maybe she cared for a Kiba a little more than anyone had realized.

Kankuro clenched his fist. He held it, letting the fingers tense, and then dropped his arm altogether. "I shouldn't have helped him to cheat on you."

"I cheated on him first," she whispered. "You may not know it, Kankuro but…when I was with him, there was always a part of him that was…off. He was somewhere else in his head and his heart, even if his body was lying next to mine. And I think all along his heart had been in Suna…with _you_."

Kankuro felt a weight lifted from off his heart. It had been so deflated, choked from life. Now it sprang up like a bird, fluttering back to life inside his chest. "I don't mean to hurt you any more," he said, a smile playing at his lips, "but it makes me feel so…happy…to know that. I haven't felt this well in a long time."

"You've been sick?" Temari asked. Her voice was filled with a bit of sisterly compassion, something Kankuro had never really heard her use towards him before.

"Sick of the heart, I think. He kissed me and said he loved me but…I don't think I even really realized how _much_ he loved me until now. It's a good feeling. I wish I could share it with you, Temari."

Shikamaru wrapped his arm around her waist. "I think she already has it, kid."

And for a pure, blissful moment everything seemed alright. That was, until Hinata spoke. "Inuzuka?"

Kankuro turned, expecting to see Kiba, but instead there was Inuzuka Tsume, grimacing in the doorway, her great hound by her side. "Hinata," she said. Her tone was short and unhappy. "Have you seen Kiba lately?"

"About an hour ago, at t-the Ichiraku Ramen Shop," Hinata stuttered, evidently intimidated by the woman's presence. "Is s-something wrong?"

"About an hour ago," Tsume repeated, murmuring it to herself. Then she continued, her gaze resting on Kiba's two teammates. She barely seemed to recognize any of the other shinobi at all. "Nothing's wrong, Hinata," she assured her. "It just that…about a half an hour ago Kiba came home and packed his bags. He said he had a mission he was going on—alone. I thought it was strange that he'd be sent on a mission in such short notice. His eyes were watering, and he seemed oddly detached. He barely had time to even catch his breath before he was out the door." She turned towards the exit. "Tell me if you see him around," she said. "I'm going to ask Tsunade about this. It doesn't smell right to me."

The other Shinobi were silent for a bit. They all obviously knew Kiba had not been sent on a mission of any sort. Still, the magnitude of Tsume's message had yet to hit them. Kankuro shook his head, not wanting to believe it. None of them wanted to believe it, not even a word of it.

Finally, Ino spoke. "It's like I said," she whispered in a semi-horrified tone. "When Kiba runs away, it's hard to catch him." Her eyes turned on Kankuro, hard with determination. "And it looks like this time we won't be able to catch him at all. Because he's not coming back."


	21. Becoming Clean

Author's Note: I really like that line of Kankuro's, "I want to be clean". I like the way it sounds.

Wow, twenty one chapters! Just one more to go. I'll make it good, I promise. Keep reading/reviewing!

**Twenty-One. Becoming Clean**

**Kiba**

My feet hit the ground, sending clouds of dust up into my eyes. I sneezed, then stopped to rub the grit off my face. I had to keep running. Somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere but Konaha.

I fell against a tree, clutching a hand to my chest. Akamaru barked, licking the grime off my face. I put a hand to pet his head, and he nestled up against my legs. It was nice, to be somewhere, lost in the middle of the forest on the outskirts of the city. It put me away from everything.

My heart ached. I knew I loved him, but for it to hurt this much…it didn't feel right. I wanted the pain to stop. The only choice I could fathom was suicide. To find a cliff and throw myself over, ending it all. Or maybe I could find a deadly plant to eat?

Suicide. I could see my body in my mind's eye, resting gently on a bed of leaves; Akamaru curled up peacefully by my side. Maybe then Kankuro would be sorry for me. He'd realize that I wasn't just some little pup. I was an adult, and I deserved to be treated like one.

He'd feel terrible. He'd collapse at my feet, sobbing. He'd be crying out various phrases so often uttered by torn lovers. The scene brought peace to my mind. What revenge was better than that which freed me from pain and left him with all the guilt? They'd be forced to blame him, since I was gone. No one wants to ruin the memories of the dead. They'd prefer to mess with the reputations of the living.

_No, no. Shouldn't think that…suicide is not the way to go. What good is revenge if you can't be around to witness it?_

I shook my head. No, suicide was not something I should consider. It was stupid, reckless, the waste of a life. If any revenge was good enough to include death, it probably included murder, as well.

Akamaru barked, and I heard a rumble in the distance. Storm clouds. They were large and swirling, almost with a sludge-like consistency. It was like the storm that had hit the Land of Waves, only so much bigger.

The Land of Waves…I had almost forgotten.

_That was where…_

I touched my lips, and the sensation brought me back to reality. Suddenly, I was too tired to move. No, not I tired. I just…I didn't feel like it. Here, at the end of all things, I wanted nothing more than to sit and think of him.

Was this the way all wounded lovers died, thinking of nothing but the ones they loved? Surely this was death, for I could explain no other sensation for my pain. I had heard tales, how death was so peaceful. This was just like that, like sinking into sleep. Was it possible to die from a shattered heart? I wasn't sure. I imagined it broken into a thousand splinters of glass, all sticking inside my ribs and lungs. It was getting hard to breathe now, and my breaths were coming slow and ragged. Glass, glittering like crystal. What a pretty sight it'd be for them when they opened up my lifeless body. It'd be like a fairytale, only so much more real.

Kankuro…he was no fairytale prince, to be sure. I hadn't actually read enough fairytales to know what a prince was supposed to be like. But if he was prince, did that make me princess? Oh, my head was spinning now and the breaths began to come shorter. Why? Why was he there, in my head, like a constant fever?

I was being so selfish…I could think of nothing but him, and how I wanted him. Surely that was not a way to honor our time together, even if it was so short.

Barely a chance at love. Not even a year. Three weeks and two nights, both of which had been cut short by…by…

Come to think of it, why had our second night been cut so short? I didn't even remember anything of Kankuro, or what we'd done. My memory contained a blank spot, a void. It was like that night hadn't even existed.

Maybe it was the disease spreading. The shards of my heart had shattered into my mind, and they were slowly causing my brain to eat away at itself. Inside my head my brain was oozing slowly, making my mind blank out. I could just see it, my blood shining over the crystal like liquid ruby.

_Kankuro…Kankuro…did we…think about it…long enough? Maybe…if you gave me just one more chance…_

I awoke to the sensation of cold rain stinging my shoulder. The sky was a deep gray above my head, and I could barely open my eyelids. I'd slid down the tree trunk so I was splayed flat on the ground. The rain was dripping in my eyes.

Akamaru stood over me, barking. I reached up and ruffled his wet fur. "Quiet down, boy. If you're not careful, someone will—"

That was when I heard it. Running footsteps, maybe half a mile off. They were getting closer. I could hear the breath going along with them, muttering. "Damn you, Kiba, making me go out in the rain like this…"

Kankuro. He was running, searching for me. Damn. I got up to run, but turned and paused. Wasn't this what I wanted? I had run for a reason. To get away, maybe. But…more than anything…I had run because I wanted him to run after me.

If he came after me, it meant that he still loved me. He still cared. I hadn't run to get lost…I had run to _be found_. It had taken me a bit to realize it, but it was true.

"_I want to rid myself of this dirty feeling I get from going behind everyone's backs…I want to be _clean_."_

I frowned. I hadn't ever remembered Kankuro saying that. Still, it was such a beautiful phrase. Clean...why were we that way, so dirty? Was there no hope of either of us bleaching the secrets from our souls? Was I losing my mind? No, I wasn't losing it—I had already lost it.

_Clean…it has such a nice sound to it._

I stood in the middle of the clearing, closing my eyes. I let the rain drip down my skin. It was like Kankuro had said. It was time to rid ourselves of the dirt. I wanted to be _clean_.

And, just like I thought, he found me. I could hear him getting closer. One hundred feet, fifty, thirty…wait. Did I really want to do this?

Panic rose in my throat, and I could taste cold, metallic fear. My feet were suddenly running, with no command or will at all. I simply had to run. Cowardly as it was, I couldn't just let him find me without a fight. Still…

"_I want to be _clean_."_

Then, my feet slipped out from under me, and something dragged me back through the mud and rain. Chakra strings. How could I have thought he wouldn't catch me?

"God…you're more trouble then you're worth, mutt."

"I could say the same about you. I guess losing you is harder than getting you to stay, isn't it?"

He grimaced, and the charka strings detached. "You know I didn't want to help you cheat her. I don't like doing things like that. Shinobi have their secrets, and I already have enough to carry. I don't need more."

"You want to be…clean, right?"

He came out from the bushes where he'd been sitting and knelt next to me on the ground. He took his sleeve and wiped the mud off my lips. "How did you know I said that?"

"It…came to me. I don't know. I was just thinking, and I heard your voice in my head, saying it. It's funny. I didn't even remember you saying that before."

"You remember that many of our conversations?"

I bit my lip, deciding how to answer.

_Answer the truth…be_ clean.

"I've never forgotten a word."

He smiled. "Strangely, neither have I. I guess…no matter how much we want to forget…we can't, can we? Fate keeps trying to fix things. It's almost like…we _have_ to be together, or else everyone around us falls apart." Then he shook his head and sighed. "I suppose…if you remember…then I should tell you. Granted, Ino will kill me, but…"

"But what?" Remember? What did I remember anyway? Another flash hit my mind.

_Sobbing, screaming from inside my head. It was like I was trapped inside a looking glass, with no way out… "Ino, no! Please, don't hurt him! Ino please…I love him, Ino…just don't…"_

I put a hand to my temple. My brain throbbed. What the hell _was_ this?

"Ino…" Kankuro began, checking to make sure I was listening, "used her mind transfer jutsu on you. She took over your body, manipulating it so I would think she was you. Then she proceeded to do her best to destroy me where it hurt most…and it worked. She duped both of us. I believed you no longer wanted me, so when you saw me at Ichiraku and kissed me, I acted that frustration out on you. I don't hate you, Kiba," he breathed. "You have to believe that I'm sorry. I'm sorry and I love you. I always have, always will. I love you."

I took in everything he said, calmly as I could. Strange as it sounded, none of it surprised me. He didn't hate me—he didn't. There was an explanation…I had never felt happier. Joy surged though me, like a bolt of lightening. The shards inside my ribs slowly picked themselves up, shaping back into that fragile heart that had been cracked and split and chipped so many times before, and would be wounded so many more times in the future.

My arms reached up, like that of a small child. And Kankuro accepted me and pulled me up off the mud-soaked ground into a wonderfully deep kiss. And I felt it—my soul was clean. My outer shell was dirty, streaked with mud and blood and sweat and rain. But inside—inside I was purer than I'd ever been before.

I melted inside his embraced, focusing on every aspect of the kiss. His arms wrapped around my shivering body, emitting so much heat that I suddenly had the urge to remove my jacket. His thumb, caressing my chin as the rest of his hand wrapped around the back of my head, pressing me to his with just the right pressure. His lips, chapped from so much Suna sun, rough against mine. His tongue slowly moving inside my mouth. All of it—it soothed me. It comforted me.

I began to cry.

Kankuro pulled away. "Something wrong?"

I buried my head in his shoulder. "It's just the rain."

"Of course it is," he murmured. "Of course it is."

And then he pulled me back again, needing another kiss. He wasn't clean enough yet.


	22. Life Goes On

Author's Note: This is the last chapter (it's much longer than the others). I have finally finished a story. Wow. This is a landmark for me. I have never actually finished a story all the way through before. Bonzai!

The title of this story actually comes from a song by Kelly Clarkson. (No, I am not an AI junkie. It's pretty much just this one song for me.) But it has lyrics that go deeply for me.I think they fit the tone of this story pretty well when sung to a nice, slow tune.

_Oh and I don't know/I don't know what he's after/But he's so beautiful/He's such a beautiful disaster._

But thanks to all of you who read this story to the end, as well as those of you who may find and read it in the future. As I've said before, I love you all.

There probably won't be a sequel to this, by the way. There may be, if I feel like throwing one together, but there's a good chance I won't. So yes, this is it. _The end_. Finally, I can type those two words. It feels wonderful. The last chapter.

Enjoy it for all it's worth.

-MN

**Twenty-Two. Life Goes On**

**Kankuro**

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked Kiba again.

He nodded, squeezing my hand tighter. "Of course I do. It's the only way we can truly ever be clean, right? No sneaking around?"

"I never considered this sneaking," I muttered. "I just thought of it as just not mentioning anything. I mean—I don't mind if we just wait a _bit_ longer. She doesn't need to know that we've gotten back together when we never told her we were together from the start, does she?"

"Kankuro," he warned.

"Fine. Truth be told, she scares me more than Gaara does."

"At least you don't have to live with her."

"She's your mother. It's not like she can hate you! She _has_ to love you. Me, on the other hand? Nope. She has every right to want my hide. And that is not happening, my friend. Not anytime soon."

"Boyfriend," he hissed, squeezing my hand tighter.

"Huh?"

"I'm not your friend, I'm your boyfriend. And don't you forget it!"

I sighed. It'd been two weeks since our whole escapade, and he wouldn't let me live one second without reminding me that he was my boyfriend. And here we were, standing on the stone steps to the Inuzuka household, ready to finally confess our love to the one person I was most afraid of: Tsume.

Truthfully, I wasn't afraid of her refusing to allow me to date Kiba. I was just nervous she'd take my head off. Much as I'd run into pain in my adventures as a shinobi, I still was not fond of it. And I was sure Tsume knew pain.

Kiba opened the door and I nobly went in after him, still holding his hand tightly as I could. He squeezed it to comfort me. I was the frightened one now, not him.

Tsume was in the kitchen, cooking what appeared to be supper. "Kiba," she said, not looking up from the stove. "I'm glad you're home on time. Supper will be ready soon."

"Mom, I'm not staying for supper."

"Why not?" Tsume continued to stir the vegetables in her pan, perhaps a bit more forcefully then she had been. She hid her anger well.

"I'm spending the night at a friend's house."

I made a sound of annoyance at that. And he lectured _me_ for using that word.

"Friend? Shino?"

"No, that's misleading," Kiba confessed. "He's not my friend…he's my boyfriend."

"I though Shino was dating Yamnaka's daughter," she said, waving her stirring spoon around. "Have they broken up that soon?"

Kiba sighed. "Mom, this has nothing to do with Shino. It's a different shinobi. Actually, you've met him before. He saved my life once."

Her eyes narrowed. "There's only one shinobi who ever saved you life. Granted, there've been a few who saved you from small dangers but…_life_. Is that the truth, or are you misleading me with that statement, too?"

"It's truth," Kiba said, pulling me into the doorway. "Mom, this is Kankuro."

Tsume's eyes widened, and Kuromaru growled from the floor. "A sand shinobi," she whispered.

I cocked my head. "That's not the normal reaction I get."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry—it's just…didn't the Kazekage already leave the village?"

"Yes. I'll be leaving soon, too, but I had some business to take care of first." I put an arm around Kiba's shoulders, bringing him close to me. "You don't mind, do you?"

She sighed. "I can't really say if I approve or not but still…you're old enough to make your own judgments by now, Kiba. I suppose whatever you think is best…"

"Hana told you, didn't she?"

"Long ago. I wanted to see how long it would take you to tell me. And when you started dating Ino…my, it had me wondering what was going on. You've got a bit of explaining to do for your old mom, here."

"Later?" he said.

She smiled and agreed. "Later it is."

We held hands all the way back to my apartment where I was staying, ignoring the stares of those who had yet to know about our relationship. I had actually been surprised at Gaara's calmness about all of this. When I had asked for an extended stay in Konaha, he'd simply said, "Whatever you feel is necessary."

I was beginning to wonder if maybe he didn't need me so much anymore. Maybe he was growing, too. In fact, once I'd gotten back from chasing Kiba through the woods, I'd walked into our apartment to find Nara giving Gaara _The Talk_. I assumed Temari was too chicken. Still, for him to get it from Nara…I wasn't sure if I was scared for Gaara or just plain mortified.

Kiba opened the door to my apartment and led me inside, shutting the door with his foot. "So," he whispered, pressing me to the wall and laying his head on my shoulder. "Our last night together. For a while, anyway."

"For a while," I agreed.

I stared him down for a moment until he pulled at my shirt, tugging it off over my head. Then he pulled off my head garment and began to kiss me, tracing every single one of my marking with his tongue. When he finally pulled back, his lips were stained purple.

I laughed and kissed him back, slowly removing his pieces of clothing one by one, until finally I had him down to nothing but his boxers. My lips moved slowly, kissing his neck, his collarbones, his stomach. He whimpered. I could feel his breath growing heavier against my lips.

I bumped into the walls of the hallway, trying to feel for the doorknob to the room I was still occupying. Finally cold metal connected with my hand, and I grabbed it. The door exploded as Kiba slammed me into it, his hands traveling up and down my spine. He nipped my neck. I shivered. This was finally it.

I turned him around and pushed him onto my mattress on the floor. He allowed me to remove his boxers, and then I removed mine. I stopped for a moment, admiring him in the dim light that came from the hallway. I had never truly seen him naked before; it was a quite a sight to behold.

It wasn't that he was overly beautiful or perfect. He had scars, parts of his skin were uneven in color, and even his muscles weren't as defined as they could have been. Still to see him to know him, to look at that body and realize it quivered, waiting for _me_—that was the true source of my fascination.

Kiba raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

I smirked. "Hell, no."

And then I dragged him down underneath me, making sure to let my fingers slip over all of his skin I could reach. I wetted my fingers and began to slide them in until I couldn't fit anymore.

Kiba groaned like he was in pain. I stopped. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Just take me," he muttered into the pillow.

So I did.

Kiba lay in my arms, panting like there was no tomorrow. "God," he yelped. "God. I thought I was going to die, for a minute there."

"Pleasure never comes pain-free. There's always one person that has to be in pain for another to have pleasure." I paused, thinking about the phrase. "Isn't that strange, though? It seems so…cruel. Lovers express their ultimate love, and it causes them pain before they can ever experience the pleasure of it. I wonder why that is."

"It's probably because they have to willing to go that far," Kiba murmured. "I mean, they have to be willing to put aside their pain for the other, to allow the other to have their own pleasure. That's what love is—putting one person above yourself. It's like when Ino took my body and told you to never speak to me again—you obeyed, putting your own pain aside, putting yourself second. You paid attention to my request _first_. I think that's why, Kankuro—because before lovers can ever truly be together like that, they have to learn concern and discipline—to put _each other_ first. I think sometimes we're so selfish we don't even realize that until we're too late."

I leaned my head back against the wall, pulling him closer to me. I kissed the nape of his neck. "That's a pretty good answer, for someone so young. I think love gives us the wisdom to see far beyond the blindness it instills in us. We just need to be willing to see past the cloud that shadows our judgment."

His hands crossed my stomach. "We didn't know that. Look at our relationship—it's been nothing but a disaster from the beginning."

"But it turned out beautiful in the end, didn't it? _Pride cometh before the fall._ We just had to take our blinders off so we could see we really hadn't fallen as far as we thought we had. And the ending result…it's wonderful, no? A beautiful disaster. It sounds like a conflict of words, doesn't it?"

"That still…it doesn't change anything, though. I don't want to see you leave. I want you to stay…to stay here with me." He buried his head in my chest. "Really, I know it's selfish, and I'm acting like such a genin. But…I want you to stay."

I sighed. "That's where our roads divide, I guess. I'll still come to visit. I'll write you now and then, even. But we still come from two different worlds. Konaha and Suna are so…different. We each have our own alliances. And if there's ever a war, we'll be forced to take a stand with our own sides. I guess then it will be time to decide where love and loyalties lie."

"But we don't know that will happen. We could stay at peace for another thousand years, for all we know."

I could hear the fear in his voice. The prospect of being forced to choose Konaha over me—it was forcing him to choose me over all his friends, his teammates, his family…if it ever did happen…_could_ he choose? I knew that however uneasy the choice would be for me, I would have to choose Suna. Gaara and Temari were all I'd ever really known. Even if I did hate them at times, there was no way that I could ever consider turning my back on Suna. It was my land.

But it wasn't my home. Of all the things it was to me, it had never been home. Home was where love was—there was no love for me in Suna.

"To choose between home and family…would be hard. I mean, where does one even start?"

Kiba sighed deeply. "I forget. Home and family are two different things for you, aren't they?"

I nodded. "Home is love. Family is merely relation. Home…I'm happy that I finally can say I know where that is for me."

"Where?"

"Here," I whispered. "Right here, with you in my arms. From now on, you_ are_ my home."

Kiba pulled me back onto the mattress and traced my markings with his tongue. "Promise?"

"Promise," I murmured, kissing him one last time before I fell into sleep. "You are my home."

"And you're mine," he whispered back, just softly enough so I could hear it in the darkness. "Now and forever, regardless of war and loyalty and family. I'll put you first, _above_ all of that. Because I _love_ you. I'll be your home. You're always welcome in my arms."

He kissed my cheek. "Goodnight, Kiba," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him and holding him to me. "I love you, too."

"It's good to be home," he laughed.

"Yes," I agreed. "It is."

And then we both feel asleep, tangled in each other's arms. When morning came, I would have to leave for Suna once again. We would go our separate ways. But we _would_ see each other again. I promised myself that. Nothing could keep us apart—not war, not distance, not family or pain or loyalty to something bigger than ourselves. Love was a bond that defied all things, though time and space and life and death. It build bridges and tore down walls. Love was something that meant you could always find home, whenever and wherever you need it. Love was life.

And love, just like life, always continued on.

**End.**


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